Biography: The Untold Stories of the Superstars
by AlKaholiK
Summary: To celebrate the untold portions of our favorite superstars' backgrounds, enjoy a historical perspective of the stars of yesteryear and today.
1. Jumpin' Jim Brunzell

Disclaimer: I don't own Monterey-Jack SHIT!

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><p>Folks, I've been feeling rather "old-school" lately. You know, I've been in the mood to educate our younger and even some of the OLDER wrestling fans on some past wrestling personalities. Tonight, I'm going to tell you about a not-quite wrestling legend! I had a chance to sit down with him earlier today…Read on, and remember—edumacation is the KEY!<p>

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><p>Now, when most people think of wrestlers of the 1980's, Ric Flair and Hulk Hogan come to mind instantly. The Macho Man Randy Savage, Andre The Giant, Sting and others were huge stars as well. But when making a list of the top 12,000 wrestlers of the mid-80's, one would have a semi-difficult time leaving off the man known the world over as Jumpin' Jim Brunzell.<p>

Usually referred to as the "uglier, stupider, much worse Killer Bee", Jumpin' Jim and his partner B. Brian Blair broke onto the wrestling scene. Their gimmick was that they were Killer Bees. And homosexual lovers.

In one little known fact, Jumpin' Jim was not one of the original members, nor was the gimmick everyone knows the original plan. Rumor actually has it that in their introduction promos, the original bees "stung" several blind children to death. Those were later cut and they decided that the new gimmick would be two guys with yellow and black stripes who sometimes wore masks. Much to the surprise of Vince McMahon, this did not instantly become the most popular tag team of all time. After a few planning meetings, bookers decided that one bee being white and the other being a one legged black midget didn't help the character development of "not being able to tell them apart".

At a standstill, Vince McMahon didn't know what to do. That's when Jumpin' Jim Brunzell got his big break. Already being looked at by the WWF, they decided to scrap the gimmick of him being able to jump 200 feet in the air. They kept the nickname of Jumpin' however and decided to make him the brand new Killer Bee. Backstage, he and B. Brian were the best of friends, and very popular with the boys. Jim recalls a funny moment.

"Yeah, I remember we were on the road with Hillbilly Jim. It was 4:45 AM and I called his room saying I was going to rape his newborn child and then choke it to death. Boy was he cryin! Then I said, 'Surprise it's me Jumpin' Jim!' That wacky Hillbilly said he was gonna kill me...he didn't though."

Jim and Brian enjoyed moderate success in the WWF tag division, but much like every other team in the 1980's, they were eventually released because they threatened Hulk Hogan's presence as the ONLY face draw on earth. Which begs the question, where did Jumpin' Jim go from there?

He's definitely got a sketchy background. It's general consensus that Jumpin' Jim himself was under the "Giant Angry Negro" costume known as Zeus in 1991. He also attended a house show once in 1992 and stole a hot dog, and managed to spit on Dino Bravo, hoping to gain some heel heat. Instead he was arrested.

The arrest sent Jim into a downward spiral. Knowing he'd blown his big chance at a comeback, Jim turned to a life of crime.

"I had a GREAT chance at a comeback, but I became addicted to crime. It was like a drug to me. I started with jaywalking, then I jaywalked again. Then it got worse."

Jim was eventually arrested again in mid-1993 when he was caught smuggling a bag of pork rinds in his underwear at a drug store. He spent 3 days in jail, and was unable to make $100 bail.

But things didn't get any better from there. Fresh out of jail, Jim broke into the house of a young married couple and took a dump on their kitchen table. Next thing you know, it was off to jail for another month, for our Jumpin' pal.

For two years, old Jimmy had a bad track record. In and out of jail, living from place to place, Brunzell didn't know what to do with his life. It wasn't until late 1995 that his life took a turn for the better. Jim tells us in his own words.

"Well, I was following this cripple down an alley, where I wanted to steal his reallllllllly cool Boston Celtics jacket. I tripped over something though, and that's when I realized it was Missy Hyatt, lying there drunk! Now then, don't repeat this, but she...she took Jumpin' Jims flower right in that alley there, and all she asked for in return was a cup of coffee. I lied though, and didn't have money for coffee. But she had sex with me again anyway, right then and there! From that moment on, I knew I was a changed man."

Jim's life turned around. He stopped sleeping in his mother's basement and actually got a job at Tim Horton's. Eventually he got his own apartment, and became a lover, not a fighter. Whore after whore came and went, and Jumpin' Jim finally got over his wrestling depression. In 1996, he was watching WCW's "Bash At The Beach" when he saw Hulk Hogan turn heel in dramatic fashion. This rekindled Jim's wrestling fever.

"I hit the gyms day and night, only stopping to have occasional sex with a 12 year o...I mean, HOT BABE FROM THE BAR. Finally I got a hold of Eric Bischoff. Initially, he wasn't interested in me, but when he found out I was once semi-popular with the WWF, he signed me to a 7 year deal and I pinned Eddie Guerrero and Dean Malenko in a handicap match at a house show that night. Then I got my big tryout, a dark match on Nitro. I was set to do my big heel turn, getting me JUST as over as the Hulkster."

Jim faced the savage known as Glacier_—(if you don't know him, check YouTube—you'll laugh like you haven't in a good while.)_. Anyway, 37 minutes in, Jim REFUSED to release a chokehold, thus getting himself DQ'ed.

There was a HUGE pop from the crowd once the match ended, then Jim got on the mic. "You know what? I was a Killer Bee before, but now...now I'm Jim Brunzell, FAT CHICK THRILLER AND CAREER KILLER! TAKE THAT YOU FANS OF MINE!" Expecting a chorus of boos, Jim was met with absolute silence, except one voice screaming, "Shut your honky ass before I stab you."

That voice belonged to Booker T. Backstage that night, a scuffle broke out and Booker managed to bite off Brunzell's left hand. Brunzell was quickly released when the WCW brass decided he was too negative in the backstage area. Also, Hulk Hogan was threatened by his possible heel heat.

Jim spiraled into depression again, this time turning to fast food and baby oil.

"I would eat McRib after McRib, wearing nothing but my Killer Bees mask, with Styx playing softly in the background, as I lubed up my hand and penetrated my own anus."

Jim hasn't left his apartment in 11 years, 9 months and 22 days. He now weighs in excess of 824 pounds. Rumors fly that he may be returning to the ring soon, as a Killer Bees Millennium version. The other Killer Bee, B. Brian Blair, could not be reached for comment, as he's most likely dead or gay.

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><p>Thanks for reading, I'm gonna' hit you again with another one soon! Please review, and vote on my poll that I've set up on my profile page!<p> 


	2. Missy Hyatt

Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing 'cept the bottle I'm drinking out of.

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Ok welcome back fans! Tonight, I'm going to educate the young'uns here on yet ANOTHER historical figure in wrestling. She helped pave the road for many women wrestlers AND valets that came after her. Folks, tonight I'm going to give you the rundown on Missy Hyatt! So take a seat and hold tight!

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><p>Missy was last spotted, years ago, by ECW fans at one of their PPV's<em>.(It was the one that had a lot of brawls and impromptu matches, if that helps)<em>. Missy basically stated that she was a whore and had sex with Jack Victory. But the question remains, where was Missy between then and last month? In her own words, "Well I sucked Scott Putski's polish sausage and smoked a lot of crack, so I'm sure I was in a gutter, naked and spaced out for a large amount of time, and there were probably several types of vegetables shoved into my holes."

To get to where she fell off, so to say, we have to go WAAAAY back in time. Missy's fall from grace started in 1991, when, as part of the WCW announce crew, she barged into a locker room, hoping to spot the Z-Man _(a.k.a. Tom Zenk)_ in the buff. Little did she know Z-Man likes to pump it with the boys, leaving his wang a nice toasty brown. Anywho, one day at a WCW Saturday Night taping, Missy was scheduled to go backstage and interview Lex Luger. When she asked the bookers what she should ask Luger, the bookers responded with, "Oh Missy, stop bothering us, because your breath smells like Barry Windham's cock sweat. Just go with it." And go with it she did. This interview obviously never made it to the air, but I have managed to get a transcript of this interview. Here goes:

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Missy Hyatt: Lex Luger, at Halloween Havoc, you face Ron Simmons, now I've got to ask the question all of us fans are dying to know.

Lex Luger: Go right ahead Missy.

Missy: Is his big black dong significantly larger than yours?

Lex: ...what?

Missy: Oh come on Lex, I've taken a ride on the Lex Express, and let's be honest, it's like the short bus. But Ron Simmons is black, and you know what they say about them!

Lex: What's that?

Missy: They got big hairy cocks! My GOD, why haven't I slept with this guy yet? Do you think he has any crank?

Lex: ...uh...4% body fat?

Missy: Hey, wouldn't it be funny if instead of clotheslining you, he cock-lined you?

Lex: OK, I give up, is this a rib?

(At this point, Missy began practicing her fellatio techniques on a live microphone, shocking herself)

Missy: Well! That's a little jolt, isn't it? Say Lex, you've got a few minutes before you wrestle Brad Armstrong, you wanna stuff my back alley?

Lex: IS THIS LIVE?

Missy: You wish buddy! You had your chance at Missy's Meat box, how about you camera guy? You want a free ride? The burning you get from me only happens when you piss.

_(The camera drops to the floor, breaking up the picture.)_

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><p>And THAT is how Missy Hyatt met her release from WCW. As far as what happened in between then, not many know for sure. Sporadic indy fed appearances were short lived when she managed to actually cram a ring post into her vagina at one PWA show in 1993. Then in 1994, at a charity event, she auctioned off her virginity for $1,100 dollars. That bombed, as 302 of the men in the crowd realized that they had actually had sex with her-THAT MORNING.<p>

Missy tried various projects outside of the wrestling world. She wrote a script for a feature film, but Hollywood bigwigs assessed it was so stupid that no person would actually want to see a film entitled "_Dude, Where's My Car?_"...they did, however, buy the rights to the script for 12 bucks and a crack rock.

In August 1997, Missy released her first album, entitled, "_Choking on Wang Juice_". The title track cracked the Hot 100 list in Bulgaria for 2 weeks, peaking at number 96, but other than opening up for the New Monkees in Tuscon, Arizona, Missy's singing career never had any high points. Oh yeah, she also had sex with THREE of the Monkees at once, breaking the record previously held by Aretha Franklin, who only managed to get it from two. How did Missy accomplish such a feat? "Simple", she says, "my vagina is so loose I could fit TWO cocks in it at once! Davey Jones and Mickey Dolenz were double stuffing."

By the time 1998 rolled around, the wrestling boom was in full swing. Missy attempted to capitalize on this by releasing an autobiography of backstage stories. Unfortunately, Missy DEMANDED she write it all on her own, without the aid of a ghost writer. The book ended up being just 22 pages long, and contained only 4 words spelled correctly. Ironically, one of them WAS Schiavone. However, in that same sentence she incorrectly spelled the words I, sucked, Tony, and cock. The last four pages of the book were just poems about her nipple sores and pubic hairs. MAD Magazine acquired the rights to her story, and you can read all about it now in MAD's "Monroe" articles.

Missy tried one last attempt in the entertainment field, releasing a video game in early 1999. It was actually well designed, had an excellent plot, easy game control, and really fun characters and stories that the gamer could get into. Gamepro magazine even rated it a 9.8 out of 10 on the game scale. So why didn't it break big? Most suggest the title of the game, "_Kill All the Baby Retards_" was a drawback. Also cited as a negative selling point of the game was that it was released EXCLUSIVELY for the 8-bit Nintendo Entertainment System, and required extensive use of the "Power Pad" and a boomerang.

As far as Missy goes now, I was able to reach Missy for comment. "I'm doing really well for myself. I've got a steady job in the entertainment field and my name is getting out there all over again! I'm currently in acting, and I've already had starring roles in three films. Look out world, Missy Hyatt is coming back with a vengeance!" With that, she walked out of her broken down trailer wearing nothing but a bikini made of Slim Jims, and marched onto the set of her newest film, where she proceeded to have sex with a golden retriever. Any Missy fans can catch her in her movies, entitled "_My dog gave ME a bone_", "_Woman's Best Friend_" and "_Missy Hyatt sucks a Doberman's cock_".

...by the way, don't let that last title mislead you. It's not pure-bred Doberman, it's part Rottweiler.

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><p>Thanks for reading, please review! Oh, and don't forget to check out my poll on my profile page!<p>

Next time, we'll hop into the recent-day and our topic will be HBK, Shawn Michaels!

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><p><em><strong>AN—Please keep in mind that NONE of these wrestlers/valets are made up, they **__are__** actual people who do or DID exist. If you're newer to wrestling and don't recognize some of the names I mention, don't fret, just look them up on WikiPedia. Buuuut…I didn't have to tell YOU that, did I?**_


	3. Shawn Michaels

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, pal.

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Welcome to yet another biography, folks! Tonight, we cover the life and times of a legendary performer, the Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels. An exemplary performer, we explore the lesser-known aspects of his life. With that said, I hope you enjoy!

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><p>When most people hear the words Shawn Michaels, they think of his classic matches. But not many think of his poor upbringing and his rise from poverty to that of superstardom. Born as Michael HickenShawns, Shawn was a big wrestling fan from the start. Shawn and his brother Marty Janetty, real name Eddie HickenMarty, decided at a young age they would become pro wrestlers one day . At the age of 17, they joined the AWAWA, which of course stood for All Wrestling, All Whores, Always. They made quite a splash known as The Rocking Midnighters, and their finisher, the Super Duper Rocking At Midnight Double Armdrag garnered them several impressive victories. But even in loss, the duo gained a lot of notable praise. Most of this came from a handicap tag loss to Baron Von Raschke. The Baron, celebrating his 97th birthday, managed to get a DOUBLE IRON CLAW on both Shawn and Marty 48 seconds into the match, securing the win. But afterwards, Baron, real name Tommy Von Baronski had nothing but praise to say about them.<p>

"Those two little monkeys flip like there's no tomorrow! Wrestling may not be in their genes, and they'll never be as famous as the Baron, but they've got a GREAT future in the circus doing those trapeze acts!"

Just two days later, the Baron was caught putting the mouth claw to Shawn's wang, and scandal broke out. Being a long time big name for the AWAWA, Baron stayed on, but Shawn and Marty were subsequently released. They came back two days later, and fooled everyone by switching their ring names. Shawn, who had been wrestling as Marty, was now Shawn. And Marty, who had been wrestling as Shawn, was now Marty. Also, they had shaved their ankle length beards and stopped wearing nazi uniforms. They cleverly switched their names to The Midnight Rockers and went on to win the tag team titles from two old white men, which was QUITE the rarity in the AWAWA. When company president "Nasty" Nick Bockenwinkelstein realized the popularity they were gaining, he quickly buried them and removed all merchandise of theirs from the stands, especially the hot selling "Midnight Rockers Banana Thong".

This didn't sit well with Shawn and Marty, and after a few hours of doing coke and having sex with male prostitutes, they decided to do something about it. There was only one thing they COULD do. The very next day, they refused to put over the team of Larry Zbysko and Vern Gagne, appropriately named "The Balding Old Bitter Bastards". Shawn and Marty went in ready to shoot, but quickly realized they'd never learned actual holds, just several dozen forms of dropkicks and armdrags. 4 minutes in, Vern Gagne managed to dislocate Shawn's shoulder with a LEG hold. The Rockers quit the AWAWA that very night.

For the next few months, the duo straggled from independent appearance to the next, all the while snorting a whole lot of crack. For a while, they contemplated leaving the wrestling business altogether, but they decided their love for groping large men was just too strong, so they stuck it out. Thats when Vince McMahon came calling.

At the request of Hulk Hogan, the Midnight Rockers were signed by Vince McMahon to a long-term deal. While discussing the possibilities of teaming with The Hulkster, Vince quickly shot down that notion and let them know they were only signed because Hulk was threatened that they had any type of fan base. The Rockers agreed anyway, and went on to job to the Bushwhackers and Twin Towers for the next 13 months.

Eventually, Shawn got pissed at Marty for smuggling all the good crack backstage, so he threw him through the window of Dr. Isaac Yankem's Race Car shop. This started the singles career of Shawn, who quickly got a manger named Sherri Martel. For the record, this was not the same Sherri Martel that was once famous in the WWF and AWAAWWA. Shawn's Sherri was about 300 pounds heavier, and their subsequent breakup would spark Sherri's single career as "Yokozuna".

It was around 1994 when Shawn's gimmick was that he was the only person on the WWF roster who didn't have a side job. He beat race car drivers(BOB HOLLY), garbage men(DUKE DROESE), tax collecters(IRS), undertakers(RAD RADFORD), and even filthy red indians(TATANKA). Shawn was getting some popularity, and now that Hulk Hogan had decided that WCW didnt have quite enough suck, he wasn't there to have Shawn buried anymore. Shawn went to work on a new gimmick, and he finally found one that clicked. He would be called the Heart-Shattering Kid and he played the role of a reallllllllllly big homo who thought it was still 1987 and thought feathery long hair was cool.

He would add onto this gimmick by employing a large man in black leather who was his "fellow dude".

Meanwhile, Marty Janetty worked a match somewhere in Mexico for 11 dollars and a bag of coffee beans.

Back to Shawn, by 1996 he had realized the secret to success. When asked to job, just say no or say that you'd been attacked by 13 guys at a bar. Whatever it takes to never actually lose, you do it. He even went on to form a group of men with degenerative conditions in their X chromosone. They got the crowd to yell SUCK YOU PAL and Shawn was involved in some kind of match in Montreal, but that's of no importance to wrestling history.

Since then, Shawn wrestled 3 times, actually LOSING a match once. After this he became Cowboy Shawn Michaels and showed up once every 5 months to remind people he still liked joking about having a big penis. Then he married a chick with massive jugs. So his life ISN'T a waste, after all.

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><p>Thanks for reading, tune in next time! Please review.<p> 


	4. Rob Van Dam

Disclaimer: C'mon, you KNOW I don't own shit.

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Welcome back! Tonight, we hold discussion about one of wrestling's greatest high-fliers, not to mention one of the most entertaining and popular wrestlers of our time—it's RVD! Here we go!

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><p>Rob Van Dam, real name, Jean-Claude Van Robert, grew up on the mean streets of Battle Creek, Michigan. Known for being the home of Kellogg's cereal, young Rob was constantly harassed and pursued by the Honey Smack's gang, Captain Crunch's Crew, and of course Franken-Berry and his marshmallow hoes. But Rob had something that would keep him off the streets, namely learning how to do the splits in tight spandex shorts. At the age of 14, he saw his first Chuck Norris movie. That film changed his life forever. From that point forward, he knew what he wanted to be-a prisoner of war in Vietnam.<p>

Unfortunately for Rob, the Vietnam was had ended years ago, so he decided to take up sports instead. Coming from a poor family, he also had to get a job to pay for his equipment. He was the star basketball player in his school, and easily the most popular. Unfortunately, the coach decided he wouldn't play as much as he deserved, and when he did, it was in innings that didn't matter. Add this to the fact that he ADORED working at the Glass Ceiling Factory, and you could tell that a career in the WWF was his destiny. But it didn't happen overnight.

After high school, Rob went to college overseas. Unfortunately, he didn't get much school finished, as his brother, the current kickboxer champion, was crippled by the evil Tong Po. Putting a killer Algebra test on hold, Rob decided that since he'd never kickboxed before in his life, he'd easily destroy Tong Po in an underground match with broken shards of glass all over his hands. And win he did, proving that his brother must have been the WORST KICKBOXING CHAMPION EVER. He got crippled by a guy who gets beat by a guy in his first match? Come on.

Rob finished his schooling and went on to join the Army. But more troubles awaited Rob. As it turned out, some Chinese kid he grew up with was dead, so he had to learn how to catch fish with his eyes closed. This helped him greatly in the underground tournament he joined for no apparent reason except to sneak out of the military before they found out he was gay. Rob had no problems with "Generic Fighter" 1 through 4, and he even got past "Token Fat Sumo", but when it came time to face, "Predictable Bad Guy who hurt his friend" in the finals, things were going bad. Then Rob realized that he knew how to catch fish, and Marvelous Marvin Hagler was refereeing in silk pajamas, SO IT WAS ON LIKE NECKBONE. I guess Rob won with a Rolling Thunder. He also beat Little Guido in the Semi-Finals with a Van Daminator off a table.

Rob then did the EXACT SAME THING IN ANOTHER POINT IN HIS LIFE, only this time it was called "Lionheart." Without going into details, there was enough kicking and horrible grammar to go around.

Over the next two years, Rob was assigned detective missions with Dennis Rodman, hunted for sport, put in charge of uncovering a counterfeit blue jeans ring, and even saved the Vice President of The United States, NO THANKS TO JAROMIR JAGR! But now whenever Rob has crazy adventures, it's only Made For TV or Straight To Video adventures. Just like Corey Haim.

Somewhere along the lines, Rob started wrestling for ECW. He became an instant smash hit by defeating Hack Myers in 37 minutes with a kick. BECAUSE KICKS ARE HARDCORE. Over the next several years, while all the wrestlers in the locker room left at the slightest chance of more exposure, Rob remained faithful to ECW, working harder, better matches for smaller crowds, and instead of money, all he got was hot sauce and crackers. Still, Paul Heyman let Rob know how much he appreciated his loyalty by never putting him in the main event, unless it was against Balls Mahoney or another fat guy who uses chairs. Since this was 75% of the roster, Rob actually main evented quite a bit, but it worked out for him. Unbeknownst to most fans, fat semi-jobbers really enjoy the smell of chairs, as they would regularly hold them to their face for several seconds in an awkward manner, allowing Rob to jump and kick the chair into their face. If Paul Heyman could afford a TV monitor for backstage, some of the wrestlers may have caught onto Rob's trick. But they didn't, so he just kept on winning.

I think Rob went to WCW in 1997, because it was standard procedure for all ECW wrestlers to leave for WCW at that point. He wrestled under the name of Ciclope and Eric Bischoff wisely capitalized on his ECW fanbase by jobbing him and Dean Malenko to the Texas Hangmen on 17 consecutive WCW Saturday Night tapings. Rob returned to ECW with a WCW won-lost record of 2-74. His two wins were, of course, against Chris Benoit.

It wasn't long before Rob Van Dam won the ECW TV Title over Bam Bam Bigelow. Bigelow said this about the loss, "Rob really dazzled me with his flips and cartwheels. I don't think that's what won it for him though, I think it's because I haven't changed out of this flame jumpsuit since 1987. My flesh has actually grown into the material, and I am in constant pain. Still, Rob is really good at jumping high."

RVD defended the title like a man possessed. Why? Simple. Champions got bigger payoffs, and during his entire TV title reign, RVD was rewarded with a can of pudding, hairspray and one of those combs that looks like a switchblade. Van Dam now boasts a collection of over 12,000 switchblade combs.

Van Dam finally lost the TV title to Jerry Lynn. Oh wait, that would have made too much sense. Instead, he broke his leg, probably from kicking several tables and chairs in order to retain his title over Chubby Dudley in front of 300 people. He eventually came back and lost to the uglier American Male, sending him into a spiral of depression that got him into smoking pot constantly.

Thankfully, he saw one of those commercials and found out that he'd been smoking his own urine or something, so he quit cold turkey. Plus, ECW had folded and now he was out of work. Rob attempted to get a job as host of Wild On...for E!, but his ECW career had warped him. During his tryout, he managed to DDT Art Mann and hit several Van Daminators on Joan and Melissa Rivers. Sources say the Rivers' women are much better looking now.

Rob spent several months doing the splits and backflipping, until Vince McMahon came calling. RVD quickly signed with and debuted with the WWF. He was put into a match with Jeff Hardy, with the stipulations that whoever could slam their own kidneys and/or spine into a piece of metal harder would win. RVD was obviously not over with the crowd at all, as the constant D! R! V! chants drowned out any cheers he may get. DRV of course standing for Don't Rent Vengeance...a chilling piece of prophecy that really turned out true, what a crapfest. Anyway, the crowd reached its loudest points whenever RVD was in the ring, because they knew that pretty soon, a real draw would be out like UNDERTAKER, BOOKER T OR SHANE MCMAHON!

RVD continued to not be over. His amazing crowd reactions, fan participation, match quality and general interest in his character were just a distraction from the fact at hand. He wasn't a main eventer in any 1997 WWF PPV, therefore he was not over with the crowd. Not like Billy Awesome, I mean Billy God, I mean Billy Gunn. So he took his duffel and headed over to TNA.

As of this writing, RVD has yet to win over one single TNA fan. Maybe if he didn't suck so bad, he'd win sometimes, like these top tier superstars seem to be doing on a regular basis. Until then, RVD will toil in the opening matches, garnering huge crowd pops and chants, which of course is just them secretly cheering for Karen Angle.

Oh yeah, did I mention how awesome she is? Bound for Glory Prediction: Karen pins RVD.

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><p>Thanks for tuning in again, now please review and tell me how I did!<p> 


	5. Terry Funk

Disclaimer: I don't own shit, dude.

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Here we go again, folks! I'm back, once again, to tell you about yet another of wrestling's key figures. This time, it's the grizzled hardcore legend, Terry Funk! Are you ready to learn a little somethin' tonight? Good, I thought you were,-so, here goes!

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><p>Once in a while, fate decides to toy with you. So there I was, Friday, Dec. 27th, 2011. I was sitting at work, making sure my job was complete for the day. That's code for "playing Minesweeper".<p>

Like any other day at work, I was sitting, doing nothing-nothing out of the ordinary, as I generally try my very best to do nothing. However, I had brought a CD to work of various songs I've enjoyed over the years.

By "enjoyed", I usually mean that it reminds me of my days on the killing fields of Vietnam. Every time I hear "Stairway To Heaven", tears fill my eyes as I remember how me and the 49th battalion stormed that hut and forced that Vietnamese guy to watch as we beat his children to death. The tears begin to pour as I come to the grim realization...I'll never see those guys again. Man, do I miss them.

Oh yeah, and I guess it upsets me how we killed all those babies. Sorta.

Either way, one of the songs that began to play was "Desperado" by The Eagles. A great song, and really, we should all take heed to the words of that song. Anyhoo, as cool as the song is, the one thing it sparks in my memory is that for a while, Terry Funk used it as his ECW entrance music.

Talk about a retarded segue!

So without further ado, in order to better educate the masses who know nothing of wrestling except for Vince McMahon's WWE, I give you the life story of one of the most influential men in pro wrestling history, Terry Funk.

Born August 9, 1742, Terry Funk (real name Teary Funk) was the son of hog farmer Sylvester Ritter and his wife, Wendi Lauper. Terry was the youngest of 14 children. Everyone assumed that because he was so young, he'd starve to death.

But he didn't. He went on to become one of the greatest pro wrestlers ever. Even as a child, you could see it in his eyes. While his brothers would often play cowboys and Indians, Terry was content to grab the family dog, stuff Fido's head deep into his groin and hoist his legs in the air, then sit, smashing Fido's head onto the concrete.

His parents thought he was a spawn of the devil for doing such cruel things to a helpless dog. They wouldn't think he was a spawn of Satan when he was piledriving Ric Flair though, would they, the ungrateful jerks?

Terry got his start in wrestling at the tender age of 9. Well, sort of. OK, not at all. But he did get abducted by Gary Sinise and held for a hefty sum. Would his father, the wealthy airline mogul pay the ransom and free his loving son Terry? NO! Instead, he offered a bounty on the head of crooked cop Sinise! Oh, irony can be so ironic sometimes.

Oh wait, that was a Mel Gibson movie.

Back to Funk, by the age of 17, he'd already dropped out of school a record 7 times. He enrolled in Funk University, with the hopes that people would think he was the Dean and he'd possibly get some free cattle or something. What do I know, it was 1801, sex and Nintendo wasn't invented yet.

While attending Funk U, Terry met his true love. The one he would spend the rest of his life with. Long, cold days and hot, loving nights. Terry would never be separated from his new love. A branding iron which he named Claudine.

It was also during his days at Funk University when he met Domo Arigoto Baba, aka Giant Baba. Funk was impressed with Baba's cat-like reflexes. That is, if cats couldn't move and their reflexes mimicked those of a mummified cripple. Either way, Baba and Terry were the best of friends. They'd finish each others' sentences, both had a love of wrestling that was undying, and neither of them thought it was that gay to passionately embrace whenever one went home for the night.

Funk graduated from college in 1814. Funk slipped on the stage and was sent into a deep coma. Luckily, nothing of historical interest took place until 1970, when Funk awoke and STORMED into the Alabama wrestling territory.

His first gimmick didn't quite catch on. Billing himself as "Bringing Freedom To The Slaves" Terry Funk, he'd cut promos about plantation owners and their negro wenches, and vowed that once he beat Buzz Sawyer for the North American title, he'd claim the rights to all his coons and set them free, as they so pleased. And maybe he'd keep just one for some sexin' on a sweaty Alabama night.

It just so happened that one he kept was none other than the Junkyard Dog, whose real name just happens to be JUNKYARD FUNK.

When Funk realized he'd been doing the sweetest taboo(i.e.- rough sex in a bathtub) to his own MOTHER, he vomited.

His new gimmick, "Vomiting" Terry Funk was met with a better response, as the death threats quickly turned to looks of embarrassment and shame for Funk. Still, whether he was a joke or not is irrelevant, because it was at this point when he finally pinned the legendary luchadore Canek.

Sadly, Canek had been dead for years. And unearthing corpses for the purpose of holding grudge matches was highly illegal in Alabama at the time. _(Al's note: It's not illegal anymore if anyone wants to FINALLY pin Bobby Eaton!)_

Funk spent the next 2 years of his life in jail. It was at this point he met Kurasawa Baba, aka GIANT BABA. Funk thought he'd already met Baba before, but as it turned out, he'd just been hanging out with a lampshade for a few months.

This time, the real Giant Baba invited Funk to his magical world of Japan. Funk, thinking Japan was just a myth, much like the city of Atlantis and the story of Popeye called Baba a no-good stinking liar.

Baba was infuriated and began to chop at Funk. Luckily, Funk was paroled 3 months later, mere seconds before Baba's deadly chop connected. Had it hit, Funk would have probably died instantly, because anyone who watches Japanese wrestling should know that chops from a weird looking skeleton like man are nearly fatal.

Funk decided that since he was known in Alabama as a vomiting, incest having, corpse wrestling, tap dancing (another gimmick) mid-carder, he'd take a gamble and go to this "Japan" and also see if there was any validity to this "underwear" he'd heard so much about.

As it turns out, Japan was in fact a real place. You learn something new every day. Funk took the nation by storm, making their top stars submit to dreaded moves such as the ABDOMINAL STRETCH and the SIDE HEADLOCK. Rookie wrestler Akira Taue was quoted as saying, "Oh my god. Not since Godzilla vs. Mecha-Godzilla has so much carnage been seen by our nation, all because of a giant robotic dinosaur."

Oh yeah, Funk's Japanese gimmick was MECHA-Giant Baba.

Finally, the big day arrived. Funk vs. Baba. America vs. Japan. Human vs. Walking Human Torso. Educated lawyer with a heart of gold vs. Cannibalistic Ballerina.

I've seen tapes of this match, and I'm not good with estimates, but I'd estimate that 14 billion people were there. Baba won in 2 hours and 41 minutes, the fastest Japanese match in recorded history. Funk was sent back home to America.

Unfortunately, on the flight home, his plane crashed and Terry Funk died instantly. Just 2 days before retirement.

Some people would say his memory lives on still. Others would say he's ACTUALLY alive and still wrestles.

They're wrong, though. That's his son, Flash Funk.

…and THAT guy freaking sucks.

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><p>.<p>

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So, that ends yet another one! Thanks for reading, thanks for becoming smarter—as far as wrestling knowledge goes, and thanks for reviewing-_(That's my attempt at reverse psycology, hehehe.)_


	6. Shannon Moore

Disclaimer: Nope, I STILL don't own anything.

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Ok folks, tonight, you're going to learn about a superstar who really needs no introduction. He's a flying something or other, but that's what makes him legendary. That's right ladies and gentlepeoples—tonight, we're learning about Shannon Moore! So belly up, ask the bartender for another round, and read on!

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><p>One of my favorite aspects of pro wrestling is learning about how the stars got to where they are. Some have great stories of rising up from nothing to become a star. Some have tragic tales of heartache. And yet some have always had it good, living a silver spoon lifestyle.<p>

I'm not sure where exactly Shannon Moore falls in that category. He's had his share of heartache, and obstacles to overcome, but he was also blessed with a lot of things that most people simply will never experience. Let me tell you his story.

Born November 5th, 1974, Shannon Moore (real name Dudley Doherty) was the only child of a wealthy couple in the affluent suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina. The first thing people generally ask Shannon is how he got his name.

Some would suggest he was named after Shannon Sharpe, but unless he was nameless until Shannon Sharpe debuted in the NFL, that theory isn't likely. Others theorize he was given a name that could fit a boy or girl, due to the fact that he was born with both male and female reproductive organs.

All of them would be wrong. He was named Shannon because his mother was a morphine addict and her slurred speech made the doctor think Shane sounded like Shannon.

At this point, you're probably wondering why I'm telling you of how his name of Shannon was given if his REAL name is Dudley. And to those people, I say: Grow up, you immature fools. Seriously, some people are such gaywads.

Anyway, Shannon AKA DUDLEY for all you fags out there, lived a plentiful life. He attended posh, private schools and received the finest education money could buy. On the outside, he had everything a teenager could want.

But on the inside, he had nothing. Except explosive, blood soaked diarrhea-and plenty of it.

At the age of 15, he ran away from Ogdens Military Educational Grounds Academy. Saying goodbye to his friends at OMEGA was hard, especially the first love of his life, a young Amy Dumas. She was his first. He was her 34th.

It was during the height of passion that Shannon realized his true calling. Looking lovingly into Lita's face, he realized that he loved nothing more than rolling around mostly nude with someone who had a finely chiseled jaw structure and man hands. But that brought about the question, how could he continue in this hobby?

Gay porn was the obvious choice, but it wasn't long before Shannon grew tired of performing his patented triple anal scenes. Ironically, that skill would later come in handy when he met with the WWE booking team! Leaving the porn industry with money in his pocket and blood and semen in his feces, he was still searching for that true passion in his life.

He enjoyed the attention porn brought him, so he tried to stay in the spotlight. For 3 consecutive years, he became Miss North Carolina until they implemented gender testing. Shamed and embarrassed, Shannon returned home, broken, empty and slightly drunk.

It was at this point when things began to turn around. One day while lounging in the family pool, Shannon's parents approached him. They decided it was time to sit down for a talk. They cared for him, and knew something was troubling him. So they gave him a gift that they thought could help him cheer up.

And they were right, for a time. Shannon LOVED the fact that his parents had actually purchased a homeless woman that he could punch and kick at will, but it still didn't fill the void. Even the brutal stabbings, though fun, didn't give him that rush that he only had on those hot August nights, groping at Lita's Adam's apple in the throes of ecstasy.

And that's when it happened. It was a Monday night, and like all Monday's at the Moore household, the family was taking turns kicking their homeless woman as hard as they could, square in the ribs. Her fearful shouts of, "Please don't hurt my unborn child" were met with laughter. Oh how they loved that woman.

And that woman's name was SHANNON MOORE. Or Shane Helms. I forget.

Either way, one swift superkick sent the filthy tramp flying into the den, knocking into the television. It turned on, and what Shannon saw amazed him. Well sculpted men, groping at each other's' privates, wearing nothing but tight underwear! Yes, this was truly bliss.

Then, after "Meet The Press" was over, he switched the channel and saw wrestling for the first time! Needless to say, he was less than excited, but still, he decided to give it a shot.

Three months later, he'd finished wrestling school and debuted in the WWF under the name of Friar Ferguson. His first feud was tested out at house shows against a young Waylon Mercy (real name Waylon Smithers). They tore the house down, and really had great chemistry. Unfortunately, wrestling audiences just weren't ready for a gimmick of a Friar who performs open heart surgery on his opponent after every match. The gimmick was scrapped, and Shannon was released.

Feeling worse than ever, he went back to OMEGA and sought comfort in his friends. Matt and Jeff Hardy(real names Frank and Joe Hardy) decided he'd be a perfect fit in their ultra-queer trampoline wrestling company, and he immediately became a regular at HARDYS BASEMENT ARENA.

His first matchup in OMEGA was a shock, as he faced a mystery opponent. As that person came through the curtain, he was shocked, sickened and ecstatic to see his first love walking down the aisle.

That's right, he had to wrestle Richard Dreyfuss!

The less said about that match, the better; but let me just say that several people in attendance had to hold in the vomit from the sheer amount of blood loss. To this day, some people contest that they didn't know the human neck could turn that far.

After the Dreyfuss feud, the people running OMEGA realized he had potential, and decided to feud him with Joey Abs (real name Joey Tribbiani.) This feud was traditional in every sense of the word. A classic babyface combo that saw one man turn evil that led to a one on one showdown.

It started with Shannon and Joey in a backstage segment where they seductively fed strawberries to a drunken Balls Mahoney. The bookers knew their fans, and there was nothing backwoods hillbillies liked more than purty blonde boys feeding them strawberries when they'd gotten some moonshine in their belly. Shannon immediately became a cult favorite.

The plans were to have Joey turn on him while going for the tag team titles, throwing him through a table in the ultimate swerve. However, backstage there was legitimate heat between the two competitors. Joey Abs felt like he was not getting enough attention and the spotlight was all on Shannon.

Some say he felt that Shannon was getting the spotlight because he was the younger, better looking member of the team. Others say he felt Shannon was getting the spotlight because during their matches, they would turn off the house lights and focus a giant spotlight on Shannon, following his every move. Either way, this led to a horrible incident backstage that involved raccoons, liquid latex and the severing of a nipple.

Shannon, being the new guy, took the blame and was released from the company. For the next few months, he lived on the road, working indy shows here and there and making his money by doing some acting. He was in mostly small roles in unknown movies, such as playing the tornado in "Twister" and that exploding gum in "Mission: Impossible".

His life in a spiral of depression, ice cream and torrid love affairs with the cast of Frasier, Shannon was near suicide. That is, until he got a call from Shane Helms(real name Shane McMahon Helmsley). Helms had been signed by WCW! And they needed someone to work with him on dark matches.

Shannon mulled it over. Did he dare go back to the world of wrestling? Wouldn't he be better off where he was? After some thirty seconds of crucial decision making, Shannon removed the anal beads, finished up with the chimpanzee and collected his $15 in McDonald's gift certificates, and headed to WCW.

it was the beginning of the big-time wrestling career of Shannon Moore. Unfortunately, it was also the end of the gay porn industries biggest star in years, Do-Me Moore.

Did he make the right decision? Some say yes, others say no. He had moderate success in wrestling, and to this day still appears from time to time on TNA, getting manhandled by the likes of Matt Morgan and Abyss.

I guess it's a question of how you want to make your fortune. Shannon chose fake fighting with large men over being the star of "Bukkake Bachelor Party 6".

In an ironic twist of fate, the star of that movie? You guessed it. Richard Dreyfuss.

...also, Dreyfuss banged Lita.

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><p>Welp, thanks for reading, please review my piece here, and I'll bother you later with another update!<p> 


	7. Hercules

Disclaimer: I don't own diddly!

Ah yes, here we are once again! It's that time again, yes, time for us to sit and learn about yet another figurehead in wrestling. Tonight, we're talking about the late Hercules Hernandez. So, sit back, relax, sip your soda and LEARN something. Let's go!

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><p>If you were to make a list of the babyfaces of the WWF in 1989, Hercules Hernandez would be on that list! Now if you were to put that list in alphabetical order, Hercules would be above BOTH Hulk Hogan and Randy "Macho Man" Savage! Eat your heart out Tito Santana. But we already know what Hercules did in 1989, and we know how badly he choked in 1990 in an effort to stop the mighty CANADIAN EARTHQUAKE. Or maybe it was 1991, who gives a crap, it's Hercules. Did any of you really think he could stop the onslaught of "Pay Winda'" John Tenta? Did you think he would match strength with "Hero To All" John Tenta? Well, he didn't. And "Almost as Good As Ron Studd" John Tenta went on to become one half of the greatest tag team ever in Japan, teaming with Kenta Kobashi as Tenta N' Kenta.<p>

Oh yeah, back to Hercules. Embarrassed by his loss to Earthquake, Herc attempted to make a name for himself in WCW, under a mask as one of the Super Invaders. Unfortunately, he didn't trip through a wall for his debut, causing his mask to fall off and make Lex Luger laugh, so he wasn't rewarded with a main event push like OTHER WWF guys who went to WCW...cough cough *Ringo Starr* cough cough.

With his WWF career down the tubes, and his WCW career going nowhere, Hercules decided he would get out of wrestling while still young enough to pursue another career. But what was he good at? He wasn't a good male prostitute, as we saw when he turned down Ted Dibiase's advances to be his homosexual love slave in 1989. Was he good at beating up fat guys? "King Of The Ocean" John Tenta proved he wasn't, so being a bouncer at fat camp wasn't an option. That's when it hit him. All those years of pointlessly swinging his chains would pay off. Hercules quickly enrolled into Lasso University. Mostly because those pussies at Lasso Tech don't even have keg parties, and the chicks at Lasso State are ugly and won't even let you get to second base.

4 months later, the world had a new lasso champion. Herc's first appearance was met with both success and controversy. He had subdued his steer quite easily, in world record time, but his lasso technique was a bit...different. While most men would lasso the calf by the legs, Hercules instead chose to club it in the head, seeing as the lasso he used was the chains he wore to the ring in his WWF run. One single blow to the skull killed the poor calf instantly, as blood oozed from it's now exposed brain. The few who actually supported Herc's lasso techniques quickly turned on him though, after seeing his victory celebration.

Instead of taking his place in the winner's circle, Hercules instead chose to feast on the brains of the fallen calf. If that wasn't enough, he decided to mark his territory to make sure no other lasso participants came near his kill. He did this by performing oral acts on the cow's tail. Then he went into a strange, cult-like rant, in which he issued a challenge to Haku, for a lumberjack match to find out who is the true King of the Lassonians.

Hercules was subsequently barred from all lasso related activities in the United States. His pending commercial deal with an undisclosed major beef jerky distributor was quickly terminated. But worst of all, Hercules had shamed himself in front of the fans, again.

Said one major lasso enthusiast, "Getting sat on by a fat guy is one thing that I can understand. But to disgrace the fine tradition of taking wild animals, putting them in strange places, then torturing them by throwing ropes at them, well sir, that's just uncalled for. The legends of lasso would be rolling in their graves if they knew about this. Luckily, there aren't any legends of Lasso, because if there were...well, I think I just explained the whole rolling around in graves thing to you."

Hercules had hit a new low. He managed to get a tryout match with the WWF, who was looking for a new gimmick. Knowing this was his chance, Herc went to work for days, studying gimmicks. He took notes on what fans loved and what fans hated. After days of mind-numbing research, Herc came up with a gimmick that he thought would ensure him a job with the WWF again. It was the exact same gimmick he'd always had, only he now wore a giant sombrero for some unexplained reason. The WWF didn't see the brilliance of this, and opted NOT to sign Hercules. They did use the gimmick though. And the gimmick made them money hand over fist when it was used by a man named Glen Jacobs. Only he tweaked it a bit so that instead of a sombrero wearing chain swinger, he was a burned to death, undertaker's brother. Such is life.

Hercules was on the brink. Thoughts of suicide raced through his head almost constantly. He needed a purpose, he needed a reason to **be**, he needed...a vacation. And that's what he took. Little did he know, that vacation would be one of the worst decisions of his life. Worse than agreeing to job to "Outlaw" Ron Bass on Superstar Challenge!

As Herc boarded the helicopter that would airlift him and a select crew of others to the remote island, he felt a strange tingle up his back. Assuming it was just another back spazm, Herc shrugged it off, and the trip was underway. OR WAS IT? ...yes. It was.

A few short hours later, and they had landed on this giant island. Animals could be heard in the distance, and something wasn't right. Maybe it was because the only other people that took the trip were two archaeologists, some ugly scientist, a couple lawyers and Sir Richard Attenborough's grandkids. Or maybe it was because Herc had actually booked a flight to Cincinatti. Either way, one thing was sure-Herc wanted to bone that chick archaeologist, BUTT how, ifyaknowwhatImean.

His uneasiness turned into pure horror when they were driven to the main lodge and saw...DINOSAURS. Brontosaurii! Tyranosaurii! Cactii! Pinkeye! Hawaii! Soleil Moon Frye! Hercules recoiled in fear, unleashing a hefty serving of dung into his ring attire. Yes, all he wore on the vacation were wrestling trunks and boots. And his chain-link lasso, of course.

After calming him down with plenty of under the counter drugs, mostly a mix of estrogen and anthrax, Hercules realized this wasn't a death island. It was a PARADISE island. He and his newfound friends were kings of the dinosaurs, driving past them in cars, digging through their feces, and even watching their eggs hatched! But Hercules didn't plan on the Raptors being so clever. That's right, Vince Carter and friends had managed to climb their electric fences, AND LEARNED HOW TO OPEN DOORS. I can't remember what happened after that, but for the sake of ending this story on a high note, we'll say Hercules died in Vince Carter's arms after being slain by the fabled Zorrosaurus.

So for those wondering why their 5th favorite steroid-bound no-talent WWF wrestler of 1989 isn't still around, they should know that he's DEAD. MWAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

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><p>.<p>

…thanks for reading. Now review, please.

Oh, and tune in next time, where we'll discuss the late, great, Andre the Giant! See ya' then!


	8. Andre the Giant

Disclaimer: I still don't own shit, but when I do, you'll never hear from MY drunken ass again!

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><p>What can really be said about tonight's guest of honor that hasn't already been mentioned a ton of times? Tonight's subject was a giant wrestling personality, as well as…just a giant human being, in general. Tonight, I get the privilege of telling the story of the "8th Wonder of the World", Andre the Giant!<p>

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><p>Andre The Giant, the man who was larger than life, the man who personified the spectacle that is pro wrestling, the guy who takes elephant sized craps in hotel beds. Alas, if you haven't seen him live yet, chances are you probably won't. And if you do, it'll be a really strange experience, seeing as he's a rotting pile of flesh. I'm sure that doesn't make his wrestling any worse, but that's beside the point. OR IS IT?<p>

Aaaanyway, Andre was born in the fine year of 1872. What a year it was for America. The world was buzzing with the invention of the "aero" plane. The New York Giants were winning the National Hockey Championship. And a young man named Dan Akroyd was teaching America how to love each other. Somewhere deep in the mountains of Colombia, a woman was roaring through labor pains like never before. Sadly, Andre's life started with tragedy as his mother didn't survive the labor from giving birth to him. But that is usually expected when a 4'8" woman gives birth to a 300 pound boy, and instead of normal birth, he comes charging out of her throat. It was at this point that Andre's father stated the immortal quote, "I 'taint never seen no slithering ghost with a varmint like your mee-maw." Two hours later, Andre's father was diagnosed as being severely retarded.

Raised by his grandmother and "grandfather" who was really a large mannequin, Andre developed slowly and didn't make many friends. As a matter of fact, it wasn't until he met Killer Khan that he had interaction with another human being that DIDN'T result in some form of semen or dung being thrown in someone's face. Killer took Andre under his wing, and once Andre calmed to the fact that a human being actually had WINGS, Andre and Killer became the best of friends. This is where Andre developed his love of wrestling.

Killer and Andre decided they would go to wrestling school together, and figured they had a slight advantage, since their birth names were Killer Khan and Andre The Giant. Also, the only piece of clothing Andre owned was a black singlet, so he didn't need to waste money on clothes that didn't reek of giant ass sweat. Andre trained diligently for several minutes before giving up wrestling school, and just heading to Japan, where any American can wrestle as long as they drink heavily.

Andre won a title in his very first match, defeating Tiger Elbow 12, the predecessor to Lion Knee 6, who paved the way for Cougar Jaw 4 1/8, which of course is the cousin of Tiger Mask. After just 19 seconds of "wrestling", Elbow foolishly walked into a savage BITTER SLOW PUNCH THAT NEARLY MAKES CONTACT WITH THE HUMAN BODY. This would be 90% of Andre's move arsenal for the rest of his career. After bringing his friend Killer Khan into Japan, they ran roughshod over the competition, winning every major title, from the IWGP Tag Titles all the way down to the Yokohama Porn Festival Best Double Anal Scene. They shared the award with each other only though, as Andre decided to eat the woman in the scene, then shit her onto a hotel bed.

The year was now 1986 or so. Andre had never been seen in the United States, so when he was called by Vince McMahon, it was a big deal. Vince assured Andre instant fame in the biggest media market in the world, so how could a giant drunken Frenchman say no?

And believe me folks, when you've been in the dark alleyways of France on a balmy summer night, you would REALLY get that "how could a drunken Frenchman say no?" joke. Anyhoo...

Andre swam to America and became a smash success, fighting King Kong Bundy and Big John Studd for the top billing in the "Lumbering Talentless Oafs" division of the WWF. Andre steadily beat all comers, including a young upstart named Sal Gee. I know, you're thinking, "Who is Sal Gee?" Nothing special, right? Would you think the same way if I told you that Sal Gee grew up to become...Andre The Giant?

Or what if I told you the truth, and said that Sal Gee grew up to be a guy with a mullet who runs a ferris wheel? Either way, Andre used him as a stepping stone to his biggest match yet.

The date was sometime in 1987. Russia had decided that communism and nuclear war wasn't enough to take over America...THEY NEEDED A RUTHLESS BOXING ASSASSIN TO TAKE OUT THE HEART AND SOUL OF AMERICA! That's right, Ivan Drago wanted to "break" Andre The Rocky Giant. The match was set, in the mother land of Russia, and as Andre headed to the ring with Babe the Blue Ox by his side, vowing vengeance on Drago for killing his best friend Sal Gee in the ring, a tear rolled down his cheek. Some say it was American pride welling up inside of him. Others claim he was weeping with fear and stress. Even more people say he was weeping for his fallen friend. I personally think he got a small child wedged deep in his ass. The fight was on! Andre won in dramatic fashion, punching Drago's head right off of his body, and sending it flying so fast that it spun all the way across the world. As it orbitted a full 360 degrees and came sailing in from behind Andre, he walloped Drago's head again, this time exploding on impact, killing all of mankind.

Not really, but let's think about it, wouldn't that be a great ending for Rocky IV? Better than that crappy ending with the hot air balloon, that's for sure.

After this, Andre fought some orange goblin type creature. Unfortunately, even Andre's massive girth couldn't overcome the enormous ego this freak of nature had, as it defeated Andre and went on to make people cringe for another 15 years, brother! WHAT YA GONNA DO!

Andre had some classic feuds as his career slowed down. Who could forget his feud with Jake The Snake where we all saw Andre's tender inner child as he pissed himself and had a heart attack at the sight of a snake?

Who doesn't fondly recall Andre and Hacksaw Jim Duggan teaching us that it's NOT about gimmicks and storylines, it's about top of the line wrestling. Punch, punch, punch, 2X4, shove, headbutt, 72 punches, 2X4! TALK ABOUT PSYCHOLOGY! Best match ever, anyone? To quote Socrates, "Jigga please, ain't no doubt."

Sometime between 1990 and now, Andre The Giant died. Reports on his death were scattered, but most people agree on one thing. Andre vs. Nikolai Volkoff would have been a main event ANYWHERE in the country! You could cut the electricity with a knife.

Despite being a giant mound of bones and dirt, I still managed to conduct an interview with Andre. How, you ask? Simple. You all remember Madame Clio, I'm sure. But not many folks noticed her eery resemblance to one Ahmed Johnson. Why is it eery? BECAUSE THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON! I contacted Madame Ahmed, and the following is the transcript of a seance that Ahmed performed for me, free of charge.

…well, not _totally_ free, I promised his new business a plug, so here goes:

HEY, DO YOU NEED SEX? DO YOU WANT A HOOKER? DO YOU LIKE GRADE SCHOOLERS? THEN CALL AHMED JOHNS_ _ (name protected for anonymity), BECAUSE AHMED BE SAY THAT HOOKERS ARE COOL BEANZ!

OK then, here's the interview. (Note that I translated Andre's responses to english, but Ahmed is beyond translation):

Andre: Who disturb da rest of tha Dwedd Piwate Wah-berts!

Ahmed: Andrea, what be up yo?

Andre: Oh, hello Ahmed.

Ahmed: Andre, you be sayving wiff da bomb digi-digi-wigwoah! Can I get a hoo hoo?

Andre: Anybody want a peanut? HAHAHAHA.

Ahmed: So let be going, going, back back to Cali-cali! 1982, you versufhses Hollywood Nash, what be the story with dat shiz-nay?

Andre: I met Bob Eucker at Wrestlemania 4, we took turns digitally penetrating Joan Rivers!

Ahmed: Hey, know who never be gettin da pliz-ay? Nevin Campbell. CAN WE BE TAAAAAAALK FO A MINBUT!

Andre: Hey, is the bedroom occupied? I really gotta shit.

Ahmed: ARRA HAAHA WRIIIWAAOOO.

Andre: Woaareuuie Owiwiwlll Zoowiiqjjj.

(Editors note: The conversation went back and forth with unintelligble mumbling for about 37 minutes until I could finally make out a line.)

Ahmed: So I be said, Rectum! Damn bee-snatch neared be killin him!

Andre: I also know a witty line. Takes one to know Dom Deluise.

_(At this point, "It's Raining Men" began to play on the jukebox. After some heated caressing while slowly dancing with each other, Andre and Ahmed sat down together.)_

Andre: So why you want to talk to the giant?

Ahmed: Nigga please, I be wanf to wif da Pearl River Plunge, AAHHHHH.

Andre: If I was still wrestle today, Andre would like fight good wrestler like Jay Reso.

Ahmed: You be meaning that cracka ass honkey Christiano?

Andre: No I mean talk show host Jay Reso. He fight Hulk Hogan at biker rally.

Ahmed: Oh yeah. He be worked wiff me when I be pregnant wit Stevie Ray in the ahwow gowwai ahhjiwa AHHHHHH PEARL RIVER!

Andre: I AM DA SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE SAH-VIE-VAAAAAAAAA. HAHAHA

Ahmed: Whatever bitch.

Andre: I like Dunkaroos. You don't JUST eat...you dunkaroo!

Ahmed: That's it! I'm being out of this joint.

(At this point, Ahmed marched out as Andre continued watching Return To The Planet Of The Apes.)

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><p>Oh Andre, we miss your big fat stupid head. We miss your giant shits the size of a horse. But most of all Andre, we miss your loving eyes. Don't we all though? Don't we all.<p>

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So, that's a wrap, baby! Thanks for reading, please be so kind as to review.


	9. B Brian Blair

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Ok, back a few weeks ago, we had Jumpin' Jim Brunzell , one of the Killer Bees tag team. Well, this time around, we have his partner, B. Brian Blair! That's right! So, sit back and learn about the _**other**_ half of the former World tag champs—The Killer Bees!

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><p>Fans around the world know him by name. Some love him, some hate him. But one thing is undeniable. He was, and still is, a trailblazer in the world of professional wrestling.<p>

And that is why the story of B. Brian Blair is so amazingly bizarre.

B. Brian Blair was born in Russia in 1977, which makes his 1981 debut bout all the more spectacular. The first born son of Cuban refugees, B. Brian was raised as a farmer on the vast wastelands of Moscow.

At the age of 4, he met his future tag team partner, Jumping Jim Brunzell in the backseat of a Ford Pinto. His father had sold him into a child sex ring, and poor B. Brian (real name Brian B.) was now the sole property of the maniacal, sex-crazed Brunzell. This gimmick was later rehashed by Vince McMahon as the Goldust-Marlena-Pillman angle, and more recently, the Triple H-CM Punk-Kevin Nash love triangle.

Sore and bleeding from his swelled up anus, B. Brian often found himself crying to sleep at nights. If it wasn't a good heartfelt anal reaming from his owner, it was jobbing to Uncle Elmer in a hogpen match. At the age of 8, B. Brian attempted suicide for the first of many times.

Luckily for this world, B. Brian Blair is pretty retarded and his attempts at suicide were nothing more than running into walls made of plywood. Some of you readers may be surprised to find out Blair was retarded, but you should have expected it. The guy wore a friggin' BEE COSTUME.

Sometime in the mid-80's, Blair left the WWF and enrolled in Wellman Academy, a boarding school for teenage girls. He quickly made friends with Natalie and Tootie, but he had a thorn in his side. That ruthless lesbian, Jo! Often times Blair would challenge Jo to a cage match, only to have Jo refuse to job and ride off on her motorcycle. Vince McMahon later copied this idea and gave it to The Undertaker.

After a couple years at Wellman, Blair reportedly got too fat. Also, Mrs. Garrett had won the Intercontinental champion from a young upstart named Tito Santana. Tito would go on to bigger and better things as "The Rock". B. Brian Blair eventually left Wellman Academy when I just realized that was a different Blair, not him.

It was at this point in his life that B. Brian Blair found himself at a crossroads. Did he go back to Jumpin' Jim and endure the hard life of a pro wrestler? Or did he try to have a brief lesbian affair with Tootie? The answer was simple to him: YES.

Blair was back with the WWF, and he and Jumpin' Jim managed to work out a truce regarding all the sodomizing. Jim would be gentler, and Blair would try not to bleed from his anus as much. This led to them being the best of friends. Vince McMahon noticed this and gave them the gimmick of the Killer Bees.

Initially, this gimmick didn't catch on. Some say it was because their personalities were too bland. My opinion is that it was because it's just boring to watch someone wrestle while wearing an actual beehive over their head. Brunzell and Blair were regularly treated for thousands of bee stings to the eyes.

To make up for the permanent damage to their vision, Vince himself gave them a feud with The Bolsheviks, culminating in a big house show match in which the Bees jobbed...twice. B. Brian LOVED it, but Jumpin' Jim would have none of it. That's when the magic happened...

Brunzell had threatened McMahon with death if their push wasn't increased. Outraged, Vince stormed into their locker room, only to see 2 nude men wearing leather bondage masks, rubbing coconut oil on each other. This wasn't out of the ordinary in the WWF during the 1980's, hey, it's actually how Dino Bravo kept his job so long. But since Vince couldn't tell them apart, he smelled money…and coconut oil…and a bleeding anus-that was Blair's.

The next night, the Bees worked a match in their hometown of Parts Unknown, Kansas. Things were going fairly normal. They were being pummeled by main event legends "Iron" Mike Sharpe and Rusty Brooks. The fans heckled them relentlessly, hurling glass bottles at their heads. At the 7 minute mark, Blair and Brunzell rolled under the ring, and emerged...WEARING MASKS!

The crowd and their opponents stood in shock. Now that they had masks on, how could they tell which man was the 6'2, 240 lb. Brunzell and which was the 5'9, 146 lb. Blair? The Bees hit their finishing move-a sunset flip and scored the win!

And legends were born. The Bees were on a roll! They managed several wins in a row, before getting a tag title shot! The champion Hart Foundation attacked, and Brunzell and Blair quickly rolled under the ring for their masks. But as fate would have it, the Championship Gods were not on their side that night.

You see, generally it was hard to tell each man apart. Unfortunately, before the match, Brunzell had gotten too excited and decided to give Blair a good swift pounding. So, the massive blood stains seeping through B. Brian's trunks were a dead giveaway. The Hart Foundation kept their belts, and the Killer Bees split up.

But whatever happened to them? Well, Jim Brunzell may have died. Does anyone really care? B. Brian Blair was repackaged as a wrestler named "Hulk Hogan"

Unfortunately, try as I might, I can find no recorded footage or documentation that Hulk Hogan ever existed.

So whether or not B. Brian Blair continued wrestling is a bit of an urban legend. Much like pop rocks and Coke will kill you, alligators live in sewers, and Lita is really a woman.

But one thing is for sure, when he was around, B. Brian Blair suuuure was stupid.

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><p>.<p>

So that's it for this'n—see you next time! Thanks for reading, now review, please.


	10. Hillbilly Jim

Disclaimer: Don't own shit.

Tonight, we're going to take a look at one of the most influential hillbillies ever! He's Hillbilly Jim! He dances, he prances, he…takes chances—playin' the lottery (Sorry, best I could think of, ok?). But, anyway, we're here tonight to LEARN about hillbilly Jim and the astounding IMPACT he's had on each of our lives! Read on!

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><p>One man forever changed the way we would look at hillbillies in the wrestling world: Hillbilly Jim. Hillbilly Jim was born James William Hill on April 7, 1955 in Boot Strap, Kentucky. But what's that you say? You always thought that his hometown was Mud Lick, Kentucky? Sorry, you've been deceived. We all have. Lying about his true roots is Jim's own secret shame. But it's an all-too-common practice in the cutthroat business of professional wrestling. His father, Reverend Steven Q. Hill, was a Unitarian missionary; therefore, Jim got to see much of the world as a child.<p>

No matter where the family settled, however, Jim was an outcast. This could be attributed to his shy demeanor, or perhaps it was because he had grown a full beard by the age of three. Who's to say? One hot summer night in 1960, when the Hill family lived in the savage jungles of Borneo, an island native attacked their grass hut in a syphilitic rage. Acting on instinct, young Jim sprung from his bed and subdued the intruder with a series of bearhugs and elbow drops. On that fateful night, Jim realized what his true calling was: dog grooming.

Unfortunately, he proved to be a poor dog groomer. Many people just can't handle the stress of the high-pressure world of pet manicures, and Jim was no exception. He hung up his shears at the tender age of twenty and searched for employment elsewhere. However, some good came out of the whole experience. Jim acquired the nickname Harley Davidson, because, as one of my sources told me, "He wore a chrome bumper on his ass."

As the 1980s began, Jim found himself financially and spiritually downtrodden. But that's when fate intervened, in the form of legendary wrestler Stu Hart. You see, Hart found Jim sleeping in an old truck in downtown Calgary, and took the youngster home to his dungeon. No, not the famous Dungeon where he trained his sons and Chris Benoit, among others. It's a little-known fact that Stu Hart had a small, dank prison in his home, where he held homeless people and fur trappers captive. After six months, Stu let Jim out for good behavior, and even decided to train him as a wrestler, out of the goodness of his heart. The young man made astounding progress, so much so that Stu actually fed him three times a week.

Armed with his newfound knowledge and passion for technical wrestling, Jim made his professional debut in Stu Hart's Stampede Wrestling federation under his old nickname, Harley Davidson. He was quite popular with the fans, but who knows how much more popular he could have been, had he gone with the gimmick that Stu suggested: Stinky Hill, the 6'8" skunk. They say hindsight is 20/20.

Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time (five years, more or less) before Harley Davidson had become played out in Stampede. It's probably because the only other wrestlers in the territory were the British Bulldogs, Bad News Brown, the Sheik, and the Harts (yes, even Bruce). That's when the well-known vision of Vince McMahon, Jr. intervened, and stole all the popular wrestlers in every regional territory, even if he didn't particularly need or even want them. Certainly, Jim was one of those wrestlers, and Vince had special plans for him. It was a simple equation, really; Vince had a famous hard-on for big, lumbering guys, and a not-quite-as-famous hard-on for hillbillies. When he found out that Jim was not REALLY a rough biker, and was in fact a humble soul from Kentucky, it was time for James William Hill to return to his roots. Hillbilly Jim was born.

It was only a matter of time before Hillbilly mania was running wild all over the WWF, and even an injury couldn't slow the train down. "More hillbillies!" the rabid fans cried. "We love hillbillies!" So, with Jim sidelined, his gentle bumpkin family was introduced. There was Uncle Elmer, and even Cousin Junior. In an amazing turn of events, each progressive family member was more slow-witted and less athletically competent than the man before him. I like to call it the "Bush Factor." I think eventually, Elmer and Junior were married, and then Jesse Ventura and Roddy Piper beat them with crowbars hidden in the wedding cake…those dastardly no-goodnicks.

Still, insulting spinoffs were not nearly enough to bring down the original Hillbilly. None other than Hulk Hogan sensed this fact, and feared that he would soon be unseated as the most recognizable wrestling superstar. In early 1987, the Orange One hatched a fiendish plan. He would suggest that Jim turn heel, and challenge Hogan for the WWF title at Wrestlemania III. Nothing kills a wrestler's heat like a clean job to the Hulkster, brother, and Hogan knew it.

However, Jim had the foresight to reject this proposal, instead opting to work a mixed-tag match with midgets against King Kong Bundy and more midgets. Hulk settled for a program with Andre the Giant instead, which drew ninety seven thousand fans to the Pontiac Silverdome, blah blah blah. Unfortunately, the midget craze did not take hold of the WWF as Jim had hoped it would, but nevertheless, he has an undefeated 1-0 record at Wrestlemanias. Can any of the other greats claim that? Savage? No. DiBiase? No. Giant Gonzalez? No. Undertaker? Yes? That can't be right. It's only because he never faced Hillbilly Jim.

Sometime in 1988, Jim realized he had reached his absolute peak as a performer, and chose to go out on top. Fans everywhere mourned the loss of their hero and role model, but to the thrill of everybody, he returned for one last run at glory in the early 90s. You may remember the successful tag team that he formed alongside Brian Pillman; they were known as the Hollywood Blonds. Jim soon became frustrated with the politics of WCW, and retired for good. Fortunately, he returned to work for the WWF, the company that gave him so much in the prime of his career. To this day, he still works in their video department. I hear he makes a killer coffee. But secretarial skills aside, Hillbilly Jim's legacy lives on every time my drunken friends and I assume the "Hillbilly Jim Pose", you know, the one where he thrusts out his chin and flexes his arms? Yeah, that's the stuff.

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><p>.<p>

Once again, thanks for tuning in! Please review and tell me what's on yer' mind!


	11. The Dudleys

Disclaimer: Hey, did you know that I don't own shit? Yeah, it's real…it's DAMN real!

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_**It's like I said on my profile page—I NOW take requests. This entry was a special request made by "Golden Black Dragon". So Golden one, here you go!**_

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Welcome back to yet another biography of one of the greatest wrestling families to come out of Dudleyville! Aside from the VonErichs', the Flairs…and the Conquistadores, the DUDLEYS have stood proud and tall as wrestling's elite family! Read on!

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><p>Big Daddy Dudley, (real name—Paul Dudlinski) led America as a salesman throughout the 1960's and 1970's. Despite the differences in their races and sizes, the Dudleys shared a similar ring attire of taped glasses, unkempt hair, tie-dye shirts, and overalls. As a group they also utilized a few similar mannerisms. The real-life origins of the group were based on the Hanson Brothers from the 1977 movie Slap Shot.<p>

The original Dudley Boys—Buh-Buh, DeVon, Spike, Sign Guy, Big Dick, Dances With, and Dudley—(real names, in order, Bubber, D'vonne, Spiketopher, Sign Guy, Long Richard, Shawn WALTZman, and Dudland)-debuted in ECW on July 1, 1995 with a win over The Pitbulls (real names, Pete and Pit Boule). Now, Dudley Dudley (the only "pure" Dudley in that both of his parents had the same last name, Dudley), Big Dick Dudley (the enforcer, who Dudley Dudley claimed was the result of Big Daddy Dudley's fornication with the Lincoln Tunnel) and Lil' Spike Dudley (who was the team underdog). The original Dudley Boys were born in a Raven's Nest throughout the summer of 1995. After The Pitbulls injured Lil' Spiket at one year, he was replaced by Dances with Dudley—who quickly changed his name to Rey Mysterio Dudley-supposedly the result of Big Daddy Dudley's visit to an all-you-can-eat Mexican Restaurant in Oklahoma, and everyone knows that all Mexican people are born with Lucha Libre masks on. Anyway, and somewhat suspiciously, Rey Mysterio Dudley could only speak Spanish or sing "Ten Little Indians".

He's not to be confused with the current star Rey Mysterio, Jr.—as Rey Rey can not ONLY sing"Tn Little Indians", but he also has the entire Taco Bell menu memorized. He praises Taco Bell for it's "authenticity" to the Mexican culinary culture. One of his favorite stories is how his mom used to feed him "Enchiritos" and frozen lemonades with fruit punch in them when he was a kid—but I digress…

Rey Mysterio Dudley was followed by the stuttering, dancing, overweight hillbilly Buh-Buh Ray Dudley. The group was later expanded when the mute, placard-wielding Sign Guy Dudley (the result of Big Daddy Dudley's incarceration in a mental hospital) began accompanying the Dudleys to ringside. Bushwhacker Luke and Bushwhacker Butch (real names, Luke and Butch Whacker) even became honorary Dudleys for one night, said to hail from the "Little New Zealand neighborhood of Dudleyville"). At the Hardcore Heaven pay-per-view event in 1997, porn star Jenna Jameson acted as their one-time valet during their tag team title defense versus a team that was rated PG-13. _(__**that**__ one's for old-school ECW fans, lol.)_

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On April 13, 1996, Rey Mysterio Dudley suffered a leg injury and was attacked by the debuting D-Von Dudley as he was stretchered out of the arena. D-Von began fighting with all the other Dudleys, citing that the comedy act they had been putting on was not the way "true Dudleys" should be conducting themselves. He eliminated Rey Mysterio Dudley and Dudley Dudley, before eventually joining forces with Bubba (whom he ALSO helped to overcome his stutter), Sign Guy, and Big Dick. These four Dudleys became a powerful, unified heel force in 1997, but were soon challenged by Little Spike Dudley ("LSD"), who was said to be the "runt" of the Dudley family and the last Dudley that was a face.

Big Dick left ECW in 1999 to persue his dream of playing Sharon Stone's vibrator in Basic Instinct, um…3, or something. Bubba and D-Von followed suit soon after for their dreams of becoming stereotypes for the World Wrestling Federation—Devon Brought a bucket of chicken with him and Bubba brought his KKK mask with him. Without the rest of the Dudleys, Sign Guy wound up morphing into Lou E. Dangerously one night after swallowing 3 gallons of Paul Heyman's sperm. This left Spike as the only remaining Dudley in ECW before the promotion folded in April 2001. Spike then ventured over to the WWF and joined his half-brothers.

Buh-Buh Ray (by now, renamed "Bubba Ray") and D-Von Dudley would go on to World Wrestling Entertainment, winning the World Tag Team Championship one or two, or 8 times, as well as the WWE Tag Team Championship and WCW Tag Team Championship once each. Though initially heels, they had much more success as faces, a different turn from their evil days in ECW. Spike Dudley joined his "half-brothers" in 2001 and had an on and off again sexual relation with them until their collective release in 2005. For a short time, Stacy Keibler—(real name, Stacy Longlegsler) as a valet for the Dudleys under the name of "The Duchess of Dudleyville".

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Meanwhile, as Bubba, De-von, and Spike were enjoying success in WWE and eating steak, lobster, and pussy each night, the OTHER Dudleys were gathered around a flaming oil drum and singing doo-wop songs for spare change. One fateful night, Sign Guy Dudley was murdered by Dudley Dudley because the donut van dropped off some day-old donuts and he allegedly took a Boston crème-filled, which was Dudley Dudley's favorite. An argument persued, accusations were hurled back and forth, and Dudley, having enough of his brother's lip, snapped and stole a crowbar from a murder scene later on that night and wound up taking his brother to the "extreme". Dudley's currently serving 20 years, but in a recent interview, he says that he's happy because he can finally get his "three hots and a cot".

Oh yeah, In early 2007, actor Steve Schirripa (real name, Steveland Skirpa) appeared alongside Bubba Ray (by then, renamed "Brother Ray") and D-Von (renamed "Brother Devon") in WCW, um…err, I mean Total Nonstop Action Wrestling (yeah, like YOU can tell the difference, lol.), where he was depicted as a distant relative of the Dudley family.

After they left McMahon-land, they were informed by the company that they could not use any aspect of the "Dudley" name in any other promotions thanks to WWE trademarking the names before their release. This decision was controversial because Paul Heyman (real name Paul HYMEN), the owner of ECW, had "given" the men (including Spike) the rights to the gimmick out of loyalty when ECW folded, but never actually transferred the rights in any official manner. The fucked-up thing about that was that WWE's trademark application cited 1999 as first use, though the gimmick is years older than that.

Alhough the Dudleys attempted to fight WWE for ownership, they were unsuccessful before their debut in Total Nonstop Action Wrestling (TNA) and instead took the monikers of "Brother Ray " (Bubba Ray) and "Brother Devon" (D-Von), combining under the new name "Team 3D". As a jab back at WWE they wore shirts with middle fingers on them with the message "Trademark This!" and constantly tread a fine line of the official trademark by either having others use their common phrase "Get the lubricant!" or "Get the tables!"—one of them, anyway-almost saying it before stopping short right before. When Spike got away from WWE, he was forced to work under the name Matt "LSD" Hyson in various independent promotions—all while working for 12 dollars and an autographed picture of Ray Parker, Jr. after every match. To this day, each wall in his living room has nothing BUT autographed pictures of Ray Parker, Jr. hanging up on them. Anyway, upon joining his brothers in TNA, he was re-christened "Brother Runt".

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Yet one **more** person has laid claim to the intellectual property that is The Dudley Boy gimmick. Some guy that used to wrestle for ECW and thought he was black and could fly—shit, the guy ACTUALLY thought he was a RAVEn, for God's sake, lol. Anyway, this guy has said multiple times that _**he **_is the person who came up with the original Dudley idea. Tazz (real name, Peter Panertia) has corroborated his story, but added that it was not **just** Raven who came up with the idea, but Raven and him together.

As it stands, WWE owns the right to the gimmick but Bubba Ray and D-Von are said to be preparing to fight for their ownership in court. All the same, Paul Heyman has given up, unlike Raven and Tazz...who continue to fight for it, albeit without legal action-when I asked them "Why no legal action?", Tazz looked at Raven and said, "Um, I get paid on Friday" We've been asking him that for 4 months now and he still keeps giving us that same answer. Raven, on the other hand, just keeps asking us to go to the store for him to get a lottery ticket and a carton of Newports.

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><p>Ok, th-th-th, th-th-th—THAT'S ALLLLLL, FOLKS! (Like Porky Pig, but only mo' betta'!)<p>

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**_Now review! You KNOW you LIKED it!_**


	12. XPac

Disclaimer: I don't own shit, but thanks for asking.

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><p>Here we go AGAIN, dammit! Here I have yet ANOTHER biography. The only exception is that THIS one is for a performer near and dear to ALL of our hearts—like it or NOT! Yes ladies and germs—it's X-Pac! He's been all over—from the indies to japan to WWE to WCW…BACK to WWE, then to TNA, back to the indies, BACK to TNA again, and finally back to the indies! Whew, I can feel my pants getting wet just THINKING about the greatness that IS X-Pac. So, here's his story…<p>

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><p>As you have probably heard by now, the wrestling world has lost a legend, a man who single-handedly brought wrestling back from the brink of destruction with his rebellious attitude, racy mannerisms, and foul language. This veteran fought back from a crippling neck injury to win gold. Unfortunately, in the end, he got an inflated head and refused to comply with the writers' plans for him. Vince McMahon had no choice but to let this pioneer go his own way. But enough about Steve Austin; it's time someone told the story behind that wacky homosexual runt known as X Pac.<p>

This compelling tale begins on July 13, 1973, when a young, malnourished coke fiend and her circus performer husband became parents. Their son X Pac (real name Xavier "Seany" Packowski) was born in the trailer that the Packowskis called home, right behind the tent of the Minnesota Traveling Circus. It's actually a funny story; you see, they called it the Minnesota Traveling Circus, but it was completely stationary. And it was in Michigan. And it was more of a gay bathhouse. But there were acrobats and lions. As a boy, young "Pac", as the gay acrobats and their insatiable clientele (mostly business types and homicidal clowns) called him, wanted nothing more than to follow in his father's footsteps and bring pleasure to men with nimble grace and dexterity.

Unfortunately, the owner of the Circus, a Mr. Larry Hagman, couldn't in clean conscience let an eight year-old boy sell his body for sex. So instead, he let him be in the sideshow, where his job was very important indeed. You see, Pac was sodomized by the lions. This may seem like a cruel and unusual task for a little boy, but it wasn't all that bad. By appeasing the sexual urges of the lions frequently, they became less aggressive. Whenever one of these kings of the jungle did try to take liberties with him, Pac had a chance to hone the acrobatic skills that he had picked up from his father. He also took to carrying a pair of nunchakus, an ancient Japanese weapon known for its ability to subdue horny, voracious lions. Yeah, I know; there aren't any lions in Japan…not any more, anyway. That's how powerful nunchakus can be in the right hands.

But life for that young boy wasn't just hot, sticky lion sex and nunchakus. Minnesota was also a hotbed for professional wrestling, as Verne Gagne's American Wrestling Alliance called Minneapolis home. Wrestling being what it is, many AWA wrestlers were also frequent visitors of the "Circus". One man in particular, a big, blonde fellow, noticed Pac flipping around the lion cage, fast as lightning. When he had finished his duties for the day, and washed the lions' animal juices off of his person, he was approached by the wrestler, who you may know as Hulk Hogan. "Lemme tell ya something, brother," the Hulkster said. "I've seen plenty of bad dudes in my time. I've been to the top of the mountain; I've walked through the valley of the shadow of death, brah. But you're something else, man. You are without a doubt the fastest little Hulkamaniac I've ever seen. Maybe you could even be a wrestler, if you weren't a vanilla midget." It was as if a light bulb went off in Pac's head. Deep down inside, he had always known that there was some higher calling for him; no one wants to spend their whole life being violated by jungle cats in a gay bathhouse. Finally, he had a purpose. He was going to be a professional wrestler. But something else that Hogan said stuck with him. At nine years old and weighing only 37 pounds, Pac was used to people giving him a hard time about his size. But no one had ever called him a vanilla midget. He was determined to prove the Hulkster wrong. With that in mind, Pac left the family business behind and set off to reinvent himself.

As you can imagine, it could be quite hard for a nine-year-old boy to find work in wrestling, especially in the 80's, when the emphasis was on lumbering giants such as Andre the Giant, and the lesser-known Stanley the Giant. But Pac did catch on with a small independent fed in California, the Southern North American Rasslin' Federation, or SNARF for short.

Realizing that he needed a gimmick to draw attention away from his diminutive stature, he settled on the persona of the Iron Sheik. He would wear a turban made out of tinfoil, as well as pointy boots. He wasn't sure what Iranians sounded like, so he spoke in a Russian accent. He even had a catchphrase, "America can SUCK IT, comrade!" Thankfully, someone informed Pac early on that the Iron Sheik already existed, and saved him from further humiliation. So it was back to the drawing board. As the boy sat in his new home, which was a giant redwood tree, he got a jolt of inspiration. Hogan had mentioned something about Pac being "as quick as lightning". That was it! He could be the Lightning Kid! Of course, it's also possible that while wearing his tinfoil turban and sitting atop the highest tree in the forest, he was hit by lightning and traumatized severely, and that was the basis for the gimmick. For all his positive qualities, no one ever said that Pac was a genius.

The Lightning Kid soon caught fire. It probably happened when the electrified tinfoil singed his trademark long hair. But after a short stay in the burn ward, the Kid was full of rage and morphine, and looking for someone to take it out on. He went on a lengthy winning streak, taking advantage of larger, clumsy opponents who underestimated his abilities due to his size. In fact, he won the California State Light Heavyweight Championship at the tender age of eleven in 1984, thus making him the youngest wrestling champion ever. He would hold this record until 2002, when the Undertaker became WWE Unified Heavyweight Champion. Fortunately, it was discovered that there was a clerical error, and 'Taker was actually fifty-seven years old at the time of his victory. So I guess Pac still holds the record. Whatever.

As the 1980's rolled on, Pac became bored with the wrestling business. At a young age, the injuries were already piling up. After all, he was wrestling at a breakneck pace. But the Kid also had a dangerous secret. During that first stay in the burn ward, he had developed an addiction to morphine. In an unthinkable trend, he was actually deliberately injuring himself as a means of feeding his morphine fix! In the midst of one such stay in the hospital, he decided that there had to be a better way to get his drugs. So, even though he was only fifteen, Pac retired from wrestling in 1988 to become a roadie for the larger-than-life rock band Guns N' Roses. Thus he began a behavioral pattern of hanging out with people who were much cooler than him. Pac spent four long years touring with GNR, shooting morphine like it was heroin, and satisfying his sexual needs by sleeping with the girls that Axl Rose put on the waiting list. He would tell these naïve groupies unbelievable lies. "Oh, I beat up Brett Michaels from Poison", or "Yeah, I came up with the idea for the November Rain video". One day, the guys finally had enough. When Slash woke up on the tour bus and discovered that Pac, high as a kite, had cut off his famous curly black locks and tacked them to the wall, he sent him packing.

Desperate for money and human interaction, the Kid had no choice but to return to the ring. He found work with the Southern-based GWF, who were impressed with his track record, as well as his ability to fit into tiny, tiny pants. In fact, the bookers created a Tiny Pants Title, which Pac won in a hard-fought battle against the Handsome Stranger, who would later become Buff Bagwell. Sure, being the Tiny Pants Champion may sound like fun and games, but he soon grew tired of the small-time feel of GWF. That, and they wanted him to change his name from the Lightning Kid to Lord Tiny Pants. So in 1993, he quit GWF, looking for bigger and better things. Who wants to hang out with jobbers like Cactus Jack and Booker T anyway?

After shuffling around aimlessly for his entire adolescence, the Kid got the chance of a lifetime at the age of nineteen, when the World Wrestling Federation came calling. To put that in perspective, I just turned twenty, and I don't even have a car. Then again, I didn't get raped by lions as a child, either. But I digress. Naturally, as a WWF rookie, Pac had to pay his dues. First, he was saddled with the gimmick of the 1-2-3 Kid, because the Lightning Kid "just wasn't gay enough", according to booker Pat Patterson. So, even though he had a flashy name and a mullet to match, our hero was introduced as a jobber who just happened to get a fluke win over a more established, popular junkie known as Razor Ramon. Ramon, of course, is known to his AA sponsor as Scott Hall. It was in the midst of this memorable Monday Night RAW match that the two men locked eyes and froze in place, transfixed. It was magic. Pac would later say that at that moment he realized, "I would never be lonely again. Also, I would never have to job for anyone."

He had been in the company for just a few weeks, but he had already found another powerful and popular group to leech off of. Pac and Hall, together with Shawn Michaels, Kevin Nash (who was just beginning to get noticed as a giant green wizard named Oz), and Hunter Hearst Somethingorother, formed a consortium that came to be known as the Clique, although they preferred to be called the Super Friends. Things were looking up.

Or were they? My memory gets a little hazy at this point, because I could swear that the 1-2-3 Kid ended up tagging with Marty Jannetty. The only possible explanation I can offer is that he must have killed Vince McMahon's wife, Linda. Sure, she's still alive. But that's just what they want you to think. To me, it's obvious that her skin was grafted onto a robot created from spare part of Max Moon's costume. If you think about it, it makes sense. They actually won the tag team titles, but that was all part of an elaborate cruel joke that was being played upon Jannetty. It seems that there was a clause in the former Rocker's contract that stipulated that he would receive a $200,000 bonus if he held the tag titles on January 18, 1995.

Therefore, the Clique used their backstage influence to get the titles around the waists of Marty and the Kid. Jannetty was repeatedly told in creative meetings that he would have the gold at least until the 19th. Little did Marty know that these "creative meetings" were part of the rib. He was simply talking to a 4" Hasbro Sgt. Slaughter action figure. At any rate, in the rarely mentioned "New York Incident", Marty and the Kid were well on their way to a successful title defense against the Quebecers, Jacques and Pierre. Because, you know, all Frenchmen are named Jacques or Pierre. Q'uel domage. Marty went for his finisher, the Coked-Up Fist Drop, but before he could even land, he heard someone yell, "Ring the freaking bell!" To this day, no one knows who that person was; he was wearing a mask and leather chaps. Spooky.

Not much else of note happened during the Kid's first run in the WWF. He teamed with some racecar driver named Bob Holly, not sure what happened to that guy. I think he dyed his hair and now he does Extenze commercials. He seems angry…all the time. Oh, and the Kid also joined Ted DiBiase's Million Dollar Corporation, but I think they just let him in so they could feed him to King Kong Bundy. When the Kid learned of this nefarious plan, he quit the WWF and jumped to WCW.

When Pac got to WCW, he had to undergo another gimmick change. There was a big commotion when the company signed his good buddies Nash and Hall, as the WWF was insistent upon keeping their copyrights to the names "Diesel" and "Razor Ramon". However, in a shocking move (shocking because no one cared about him), they also refused to let Pac use his "1-2-3 Kid" gimmick. With that in mind, booker Dusty Rhodes suggested that he go by Syxx, because in Rhodes' words, "I could fit six of you in mah belly…CLUBBERIN'!"

The eccentric spelling of the name was a result of Dusty's crippling illiteracy. Naturally, Syxx weaseled his way into the popular now, headed by Hall and Nash. This gave him an opportunity to show off all the sign language that he knew, although deaf wrestling fans nationwide were horrified by his foul language and poor syntax. Unfortunately, his burgeoning role as a fly on the cow turd that was WCW was cut short over a simple misunderstanding. On April 1, 1998, Pac received a message from Eric Bischoff via FedEx notifying him of his release. He was distraught, tossing the message in the trashcan and packing his bags without bothering to read the bottom line: "APRIL FOOLS!"

Undaunted, Pac headed back to the suddenly greener pastures of Titan Towers. The WWF had finally slowed WCW's momentum, and another old pal, Triple H, was taking over the controversial and wildly popular stable known as Degeneration X. The main goal of DX was to sell trendy t-shirts and make dick jokes. Naturally, the Kid, or X Pac as he was now known, fit right in. Not just because of the homoeroticism, either. You see, his main duty as a GNR roadie all those years before was to sell t-shirts at the concerts. For some ungodly reason, the fans actually cared about X Pac this time around. His catchphrase, "suck it", became the "Where's the Beef" of a new generation. Fans thrilled as he performed the Bronco Buster, a risqué maneuver whereby he joyfully gyrated his groin in the face of a fallen opponent. To be certain, it was a move that he never dared to attempt back in the lion cage.

DX eventually went their separate ways, and Pac found a new friend. This person was nearly seven feet tall, red, and didn't talk much. No, it wasn't the bloody corpse of Bruiser Brody; but you're close! It was Kane. This odd couple was an instant hit, as X Pac's great people skills taught Kane how to open up a bit. Uh…yeah, sure. But naturally, being the small, weak, squirrelly member of the most successful tag team in the WWF was a burden. After sending Kane out on his own, X Pac decided that he'd like the Big Red Machine's sloppy seconds. So he stole the "lovely" Tori after winning a match with the stipulation that the poor girl had to spend the holidays with him. Sadly, I am not making this up.

When the WWF decides that having to spend Christmas with X Pac is a punishment, and films vignettes attesting to it, there's not even a joke I can make to top that. Thanks a lot, guys. But hey, at least the fans hated X Pac. That was the intended result, and boy, was he unpopular. 2000 was a pretty mediocre year for him. I know DX reunited, and I keep trying to remember what else happened, but I just keep seeing Triple H snarling and hitting things with a sledgehammer. Weird.

2001 was a much more eventful year for X Pac, both on screen and off. At a party in San Francisco, he met and was captivated by musician and gelding Uncle Kracker. They hit it off, and were married in a private ceremony by Test. That's right; he's a justice of the peace in his spare time. Is there anything that guy can't do? Oh yeah – wrestle. X Pac also played an integral role in the WCW Invasion storyline, as he deigned the cruiserweights worthy of wrestling him. Magically enough, after losing early on, he always got the win in the blow off match. In fact, in exchange for jobbing to him, X Pac also received the first-born child of Tajiri.

You heard me right; X Pac is now in possession of Billy Kidman. Alas, his title as Supreme Overlord of the Little People was short lived, as he suffered a back injury and went on the shelf, taking his Light Heavyweight Title with him. Soon after, Mick Foley announced on the air, "X Pac is missing…and no one cares". Obviously, he took offense to this comment, and suggested that Foley "suck it". Mick could not be reached for comment, as he was too busy counting his stacks of money and staring at his gorgeous wife.

After Wrestlemania X8, X Pac made his grand return, as a member of (surprise!) the nWo. The fans repeatedly reminded him that he did indeed suck, and it simply became too much for his fragile psyche to take. He frequently broke down crying backstage, and even in the ring on occasion. In an attempt to cheer him up, Scott Hall took his friend out for a drink after a show in May. As they say, the road to Hell is paved with…um…beer. Long story short, Hall fell off the wagon and was released. Things only got worse from there. During a ten-man tag match on RAW, the sound of X Pac sobbing on the ring apron distracted Kevin Nash, causing him to land wrong on his leg. He tore his ACL, and Pac had lost another friend. Now the grief was too much to take, and the lonely, unappreciated veteran was too depressed to wrestle…especially if it entailed losing. One week, he asked for his release, which WWE reluctantly _*cough*_ gladly _*cough*_ granted him.

He then went to TNA, where Lysol had to sprayed every time he was in the ring because he stunk up the joint so badly. He got canned from TNA and is presently head cashier at the McDonald's on 155th and Chase—either that's him or some dude that REALLY looks like him.

Will he ever wrestle again? Only if his friends say it's okay.

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><p>Thanks for reading, that'll be it for this one! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!<p> 


	13. Tazz

Disclaimer: I don't own shiggity-shit!

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><p>Ok, here we are once again for yet another biography. However, this one's for a man who really needs no introduction. He's shorter than Rey Mysterio, but taller than the Big Show—folks, I give you the munchkin we lovingly call "Tazz"! Here goes…<p>

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><p>Tazz <em>(real name: Peter Pan)<em> made a lot of waves when he was born on Smarch 13, 1969. Some say his birth was so newsworthy because he was the only child born in the thirteenth month of that particular year before the calendars were corrected. However, I know that baby Tazz was really a newsmaker because he was the result of the first successful cross-breeding between a badger and a carrot. Obviously, his biological parents were not fit to raise the child; sadly, the carrot was destroyed in the mating process. The scientists responsible for Tazz took pity upon their freakish creation, and found a good pair of human foster parents for him, Don and Judy Senerchia of Red Hook, New York. Tazz's new parents loved him very much, but love alone doesn't pay the bills, and these stereotypical Italian immigrants lived in poverty.

Still, friends of the family say that they lived in the most comfortable garbage can in all of Brooklyn. Heheh, just like Oscar the Grouch. Obviously, it wasn't easy being the only genetic freak that lived in a trash can in a tough neighborhood. As a means of coping, Tazz developed his rough-around-the-edges "thug" persona at a young age, choking out stray cats and bag ladies that looked at him funny. Most of the children were actually scared of him, because of his odd physical appearance. He also had a growth spurt when he was eight years old, and at five feet, nine inches, he was the tallest second grader in his class.

Unfortunately, this was the only growth spurt Tazz would experience in his life, and by high school he would actually start shrinking. Many consider this to be a side effect of the cross-breeding, as his carrot genes began to decay. Naturally, Tazz's abrasive characteristics and distinctive ethnicity made him a loner, but he did have one loyal friend. His name was Joey Numbers, and he was a product of an overactive imagination. However, he was also an eight foot tall Yeti with mob connections, so he had Tazz's back.

In 1987, Tazz graduated from high school, and his classmates voted him "Most likely to shoot up a post office, become a carnie, or wrestle for pasta." The young man managed to rise above the mocking and hostility of his peers, however, and he soon found an entry-level position in a great field of work. That's right; he was a bag boy at the local Food King supermarket. Sure, the pay was pretty lousy, but as an added perk they let him sleep in the meat locker in the back of the store.

He fit neatly on top of one of the shelves, and his odd, badger-like layer of fur protected him from the extreme cold. But the tongue-in-cheek suggestions of his former classmates stuck with the youngster; he finally realized that his true dream was to become a wrestler. His bag boy job actually allowed him to meet the man that would train him: legendary physical comedian Chevy Chase. As he would later hint at on MTV's Tough Enough, Tazz learned how to take bumps by falling on spilled milk in the dairy aisle. Although the image of Tazz sprawled on a supermarket floor, coated in white fluid with Chevy Chase standing over him and yelling something about "putting your back into it" is no doubt uproariously funny to you and me, apparently the Food King patrons were not amused. It wasn't long before the diminutive bag boy was unemployed. But that didn't keep Tazz down, because now he was on his way to becoming one of the beautiful people. He was a wrestler.

Armed with his knowledge of bumping and his wide array of street-thug chokeholds, Tazz traveled up and down the east coast, plying his trade all the way from New York to…New Jersey. He got some interest from Bernardo Leonardo's Old-school Wrestling, or B.L.O.W., a small independent promotion out of Leonardo, New Jersey. Although Tazz had plenty of character ideas, it was the late eighties and Hulkamania was in full swing. Anytime a struggling indy owner could use the Hulkster's notoriety to sell a few tickets, he was going to take advantage of it. Promoter Leonardo Leonardo took one look at the rookie's orange glow and dubbed him the Semi-Mortal Petey Hogan. Just hoping to get make a name for himself, an eager Tazz shaved his trademark Afro and dyed his mustache blond. Sure, he had the look, but did he have that energy, that unmistakable charisma? Well, no. The fans soon got bored with Petey Hogan, mostly because his matches consisted of crude chokes, punches, and the occasional big boot or leg drop. I mean, who would want to see that?

Luckily, just when Tazz was at his lowest point, he received some helpful advice from his old invisible Yeti pal Joey Numbers. "Hey, stupid", Joey said, "These people paid to see violence! Throw some guys on their freakin' heads! While you're at it, burn this place to the ground!" Naturally, Tazz listened to his dearest childhood friend. Suddenly, wrestling fans from all over New Jersey were flocking to Leonardo to see the Human Suplex Machine, as he had come to be known. Regrettably, Tazz followed Joey's advice a little too closely. After he burned the arena in Leonardo to the ground, he was sentenced to five years in prison for arson and attempted murder. It was back to the drawing board for our old buddy Pete.

By the time Tazz got out of jail, it was 1993, and the state of wrestling in America had changed drastically. It seemed that you either worked for the "Big Two" of WWE and WCW, or you scraped by from independent booking to independent booking. However, our hero had heard some good things about a new, struggling promotion based out of Philadelphia, called Eastern Championship Wrestling. Obviously, Tazz had a chip in his shoulder after spending five years in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison, so he had a great idea for an edgy new character: Bitey, the Surly Oompa-Loompa. He even developed a great catchphrase: "Oompa, Loompa, Doopity-Doo…Win if you can, survive if I let you!" Today we can appreciate the genius of this gimmick, but the powers that be had other ideas for their new worker.

Eddie Gilbert had heard of Tazz's penchant for cheap knockoffs of more popular icons, and suggested that he be part of a tag team called the Tasmaniacs. He and his partner would run out to the ring barefoot, wearing crude loincloths and face paint, drooling and spinning in circles all the while. This gimmick was of course patterned after the 1-2-3 Kid, or as he is now known, X Pac. Tazz was still relatively young and hungry; literally, he was starving. Since his release from prison, he had stooped to eating cardboard and Chicken McNuggets. With this in mind, he agreed to the gimmick, and he and his new partner Lou Thesz began their steady climb through the ECW tag team ranks. The rest is history.

What? You think that was a cop out? Fine. I'll keep going. I'd like to see YOU try to write an article when there's a perfectly good Dodgers-Brewers game on TV. Anyway, after a few years of high laundry bills (slobber is just impossible to get out of spandex), Tazz was growing tired of his cartoonish gimmick and felt that it was time for a change. Considering that ECW had broken off from the NWA and dubbed itself Extreme Championship Wrestling, with a more violent, adult focus, he had no problems convincing management. It was at this time that he became known simply as Taz. Sure, his appearance was still pretty goofy; but then what would you expect from a hairy orange midget wrestler? He also started teaming with some jobber named Sabu.

I couldn't really find much about that guy. Apparently he was Iraqi or something, and his gimmick consisted of falling off of chairs and adding to his already gruesome collection of scar tissue. They made a good team, and Tazz was happy because wrestling next to Sabu made him look very technically sound. They even had a great mouthpiece in Paul Heyman. Yeah, you heard what I said. Trust me; there was a time when he didn't just flop about ringside yelling things like "BLEEED! KILL HIM DEAD! MURDER A KITTEN!" However, all good things must come to an end, and so it was for Sabu and Taz. I think they broke up because Sabu cooked Taz's Chihuahua and fed it to him. Or maybe that was someone else. I don't remember. So they had the requisite bi-money feud, which ended in most dramatic fashion, with Taz breaking Sabu's neck. Normally, this would be the sort of devastating event that rocks an entire promotion and leaves the worker responsible for the injury to question his own abilities. But you have to remember that this was Sabu. He had already broken his neck twice in that year alone, so Taz was actually given a main event push after the accident.

Taz was building up quite a reputation as a take-no-prisoners street thug, dropping everyone and their grandmother on their heads and then choking their lights out with his patented Tazmission, which he stole from some Japanese guy. Eventually, the other wrestlers wised up and stopped bringing their grandmothers to ringside. But nothing could deter Taz, whose rough upbringing and years of suffering under the burden of crappy gimmicks was finally paying off. He was even given the opportunity to name every move in his repertoire after himself, such as the Reverse Tiger Tazplex and the Tazticular Claw.

The culmination of all of this hard work came on January 10, 1999, when he defeated Shane Douglas for the ECW World Heavyweight Championship, a title he would hold for eight months. Now this may seem impressive, but really, the only other main eventer in ECW at the time was Douglas, and it was clear that nobody liked him, so there was no choice but to keep the strap on Taz. To his credit, he did make waves as champion by "shooting" on the titleholders of the competition. Unfortunately, when Hulk Hogan took offense to Taz's comments and confronted him one night in a bar in Philadelphia, the ECW champion panicked and literally shot Hogan with a rifle.

In a happy twist of fate, it was just a plastic rifle from that old Nintendo Duck Hunt game, and Hogan escaped unharmed. Well, he did break a hip trying to get out of the line of fire, but that's to be expected, because he's old! Hahahaha! I made a funny. At any rate, Taz was starting to get bored with the ECW scene. He was embarrassed to take girls back to his "room", seeing as it was just a broom closet in the ECW Arena, and he had to share it with Mikey Whipwreck. Mikey was always leaving the toilet seat up. Of course, by toilet seat, I mean the lid of a Tupperware container. Taz had also heard rumors of WWE wrestlers getting paid in legal US tender, as opposed to Momma Heyman's matzo balls. WCW wrestlers, on the other hand, were paid in gold bars, but that's a story for another day. With this in mind, Taz packed up his sleeping bag and his Air Supply albums and headed to Stamford, Connecticut.

Taz had finally made it to the grandest stage of them all, the World Wrestling Federation. But it wasn't long before he ran into legal trouble again. It seems the World Wildlife Fund took offense to Taz's name, claiming that it was insensitive to real-life Tasmanian devils, as it depicted them as violent genetic freaks who think they are Italian. Taz didn't want to give up his wacky name, but the WWE's high-priced lawyers overpowered him. So Taz officially became Tazz, and his new catchphrase was "Bring on the Z's!" In spite of his unwelcome name change and diminutive stature, Tazz made immediate waves by debuting at the 2000 Royal Rumble and ending Kurt Angle's undefeated streak. It was a brutal, albeit quick match, and Tazz received compliments from several workers and officials in the locker room. However, he did find it slightly unsettling when his opponent looked him in the eye and said, "By this time next year, I'll be world champion and you'll be eliminated from the Rumble in ten seconds."

Tazz would soon find out that Kurt Angle was something of a profit. His momentum soon evaporated, and he found himself laying down for more wrestlers than Tammy Sytch on a coke binge. In fact, I've compiled a list of a select few wrestlers that Tazz has done the job to:

1. Steve Austin  
>2. Big Show<br>3. Christian  
>4. Chris Jericho<br>5. William Regal  
>6. Maven<br>7. Nidia  
>8. Al Snow<br>9. Howard Finkel  
>10. Lucy <em>(Triple H's Dog)<em>

Oh, and I almost forgot. Riding the coattails of the booming success of reality-based television shows in recent years, the WWE had a modest hit in Tough Enough. Tazz was fortunate enough to be chosen as one of the four Superstars who would train the ORIGINAL batch of would-be wrestlers, and originally appeared to be the "star" of the show. However, the producers and viewers alike soon realized that he was just a mean, lazy bastard who yelled at the contestants to build his own fragile self-image. Apparently, Tazz did not actually play a part in physically training the young workers, and on more than one occasion he actually made Al Snow cry, because Al is a beautiful, sensitive man. Due to this lack of discipline, Tazz's part was quickly de-emphasized and it was back to the salt mines.

Sensing that his in-ring career may have hit a plateau, Tazz stepped away from his duties as an active wrestler to join former Miss Teen USA semifinalist Michael Cole on the Smackdown announcing team. As the wacky color commentator to Cole's straight man…haha, who am I kidding? Michael Cole and the word "straight" go together about as well as "Mason Ryan" and "five-star match". Anyway, Tazz is quite the comedian, as, nowadays he paints TNA with a brush of odd language that is truly unique. I'm sure some of you out there may be confused or downright terrified by the unusual terminology that he uses on a weekly basis, but never fear. Below I have provided a partial glossary of Tazz's wrestling terminology, translated to English.

**Rocket Buster:** _noun._ Often used to describe an old-fashioned, energetic brawl. Example: "Dis Stiletto Heel on a Pole Match between Hulk Hogan and Mean Gene Okerlund is gonna be a real rocket buster!" (See "_Slobberknocker"_.)

**Punk Card:** _noun._ As in "pulling his punk card", the punk card is an incendiary statement, used with intent to goad someone into fisticuffs. Example: "Jericho shouldn't have insulted Edge's choice of shampoo; he just pulled his punk card!"

**Tomater:** _noun_. A variation of "tomato", believed to be a New York dialect. In this case, used in reference to an attractive young woman with whom Tazz would like to engage in carnal relations. Example: "Hey Tenay, 'dat Velvet Sky is one fine-lookin' tomater, huh?"

**Bush:** _noun_. A full head of thick, unkempt hair. Example: "Lookit 'dat bush on Sting's head! That hair growth supplement really works!"

**Golden Showers:** _noun phrase_. Specifically used to describe the sparkling waterfall-style pyrotechnic effects, which used to accompany Christian and Randy Orton to the ring. In American slang, "golden showers" are the effect of allowing someone to urinate on your head. Example: "Man, I really like Christian's pyro 'dere, 'dem golden showers…what? What the hell is everyone laughin' at?"

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><p>Well, that's it for another one, who knows how long this'll go on? Don't forget, I still take requests!<p>

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Thanks for reading, reviews are always appreciated!


	14. Bam Bam Bigelow

Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own shit, buddy.

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><p>Here we go again! See? This is what happens when I have Bloody Marys for breakfast—I just GOTTA' post another story! Damn! This creativity is flowing through me like semen through a hooker's cooch. Anyway, tonight I give you—"The Beast From the East" Bam Bam Bigelow!<p>

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><p>Bam Bam Bigelow began his life as Terry Ray Gordy, Jr. on September 1, 1337. Sadly, he never knew who his parents were. This is likely because he was hatched from a gigantic chocolate egg in Ye Olde Asburye Parke, Newe Jerseye, the only American city to be established before the Seventeenth Century. Forced to fend for himself, the infant became a scavenger, devouring anything that wandered into his vicinity: mostly mosquitoes, squirrels, bears, and old tires. As a result of his indiscriminate diet, this young oddity ballooned to four hundred pounds by the age of five. He soon became notorious as the most fearsome monster in North America. Word traveled gradually about the "Beast from the East". The beast part of his nickname is self-explanatory, and he was, of course, from the east. Maps had not yet been invented, so Ye Olde Asburye Parke was arbitrarily chosen as "the East". It was easier to spell than Ye Olde Asburye Parke, Newe Jerseye, anyway. But I digress. This newfound notoriety put a big damper on Bam Bam's diet, as wary travelers started avoiding him like the Plague. Wait a minute…this was the Fourteenth Century. Yes! Finally, the Plague is a fashionable, timely reference! In your face, world! Anyhow, the Beast's meals became few and far between, and he fell into a deep depression as a teenager.<p>

Fortunately, at his lowest point, things began to turn around for our hero. One particularly dreary day, he was crawling around his crude mud hut, foraging for grubs and berries, when he caught the scent of human flesh…and leather. Bam Bam had not eaten any people for three weeks, and it had been two weeks since he had cow. But the real deal-breaker was the fact that he had not eaten a Mantaur since the Great Mantaur Fire of 1349. His heart leapt for joy, and he became so excited that the blood rushed to his head and he passed out. Of course, Bam Bam was still so massive that it took him nearly two hours to completely lose consciousness. As he was waiting to keel over, he got his first good look at the would-be prey. It was an ancient, mystical creature, with a luxurious, tangled golden mane and weathered orange skin. But its most awe-inspiring feature was a mouthful of sparkling white teeth; it had seven rows of teeth in all, so bright that the sun dulled in comparison. This creature, of course, was Diamond Dallas Page.

When Bam Bam finally came to, he had no idea how long he had been unconscious, nor did it matter. He was completely entranced by the enigmatic stranger, who was now sitting on a nearby rock, chomping on a cigar. Cigars, naturally, were the sweetest food available at the time and were something of a North American delicacy. "Who are you?" our hefty friend asked, except that he could not speak English, so it came out more like, "Dobble-goo! Garf bort Russo!" DDP responded with a deep, hearty laugh. "I like your style, kid. However, you smell terrible and your diamond cutter is just hangin' out for the world to see. If you're ever gonna make it in the real world, you gotta helluva lot to learn. Stick with me, and you'll go places. BANG!" The loud, strange noise and the inexplicable pyrotechnics that accompanied it confused the naïve monster at first, but after a moment, his entire face lit up with joy – and some of the stray pyro, but it was quickly extinguished by his constant drooling. He tried to emulate DDP's trademark phrase, but all he could muster was, "BAM BAM!" Thus, Page christened him Bam Bam. The Bigelow surname came from a popular brand of catapult at the time. I guess. Whatever.

As time went by, DDP imparted all of his knowledge and his five hundred years of life experience upon his hefty protégé. He taught the man-child how to speak, smoke, cross-stitch, and how to use his size and primal hunting instincts for self-defense. Fortunately, he also taught Bam Bam how to cover his shame. Applying their cross-stitch skills, the pair collaborated on a stylish flame-patterned jumpsuit for Bam Bam, made from the hides of several primitive horses and orphaned children. Well, it was stylish in the 1300s, I swear. It seemed like the Beast from the East finally had it all. Still, there was a void in his life that jumpsuits and cigars could never fill. He needed a companion closer to his own age.

So one day, after a particularly fierce bowel movement, he startled DDP with a loud squeal of joy. When the tutor rushed to his student's side, he found him playing contentedly with a pile of his own feces. Through a long, pointless conversation, Page managed to determine that Bam Bam had adopted this fecal mass as a friend of his very own. He called it "Kanyon". It took an initial adjustment period, but DDP finally grew to love Kanyon just as much as Bam Bam did. The trio became known as the "Jersey Triad", and they lived happily for some years, traveling on a series of adventures that took them as far away from home as Hoboken and Freehold. They tipped exotic cows, set fire to new and unspoiled forests, and laughed merrily along their way.

But eventually, all the wonders of New Jersey (the 'e' endings having been dropped when I stopped caring) just couldn't contain these three wayward spirits. They became restless and constipated. After some weeks of dreary reflection in the Triad Camp, DDP woke up with a start one morning in August 1362. He remembered that he had built a time machine some months previous out of old squirrel bones and pine needles. He had been saving it for the right occasion, but then had forgotten about it during a brief bout with leprosy. This was the answer! Their ticket to freedom! He shook Bam Bam awake, gathered Kanyon in a canvas pouch, and set the primitive analog dial on the contraption for a new and exciting era in the history of the world!

Regrettably, the Triad landed in the 1980s instead. Also, the perils of time travel had a damaging effect on the gang. Diamond Dallas Page's skin was thoroughly baked by beams of light in the time portal; of course, no one could tell the difference. Bam Bam suffered severe burns all over his scalp; to the naked eye, they appeared to be some sort of fashionable tattoo. But most amazing of all was the change that manifested within Kanyon. Few people know that fecal matter is broken down on a molecular level by time travel. In the process of reconstituting itself in a time portal, it is possible for human feces to absorb excess floating human cells and take on characteristics of human life. Wow, that was a lot of "humans". Anyway, by the time this mystical journey was completed, Kanyon had become a real boy! Well, sort of. He looked more like a walking tumor with hair and eyeballs, but he could still carry out all the expected life processes of a regular person. Finally, he truly fit in with Bam Bam and DDP.

So the Jersey Triad finally had arrived in a more exciting and evil time. But of course, capitalism had run roughshod over the hunting and gathering and bartering that trademarked their previous existence. Simply put, they had to get jobs, and quick. With his loud, effervescent personality and horrifyingly ghoulish physical appearance, DDP was a natural radio disc jockey. But he was stuck in a low profile, low-paying graveyard shift on an AM station in Trenton just because he didn't have any references. That, and his annoying habit of responding to callers with cries of, "Evil ghost spirits! Get your damn voices out of my head, you mysterious hell beast bastards!" Kanyon, meanwhile, was unfit for gainful employment anywhere but McDonald's. Of course, even godless mistakes of evolution have their standards, so he was content to sit at home and watch Punky Brewster while his organs and appendages developed. This left the burden on Bam Bam to be the big breadwinner of the strange little family.

There was one job that was a perfect fit for someone with Bam Bam's stature, look, and mentality. Regrettably, the local circus didn't need any more dancing bears. But Bam Bam had been watching wrestling on the television, having convinced DDP that the "men in the box" were not more evil spirits. Professional wrestling was all the rage in the eighties, with a special emphasis on bigger, less mobile wrestlers. Still, there had been a recent influx of smaller, quicker, more agile workers as well, men like Ricky Steamboat and Randy Savage. Bam Bam had an idea. But since the local transvestite strip club wasn't hiring, he decided to become a wrestler instead. Although he was incredibly fat, it is well known that Bigelow was also surprisingly nimble on his feet. After all, he had spent years running away from DDP on those nights that he was "in the mood for some home cooking". Yes, Bam Bam was primed to change the world of wrestling forever.

Of course, just wanting to be a wrestler wasn't enough to make it happen. So Bam Bam set out to make a name for himself in Japan – Jersey All Pro Alliance Northeast, that is. The only problem was that he had a terrible sense of direction, and wound up in Stamford, Connecticut at Titan Towers, headquarters of the World Wrestling Federation. He had just intended to ask for directions, but Vince McMahon got one look at the bald behemoth and instantly fell in love. Few people know that this was the first time Vince demanded a divorce from Linda. She naturally refused, so Vince did the next best thing and offered up Earl Hebner's hand in marriage to Bam Bam as incentive for signing a contract. More than a little confused, he agreed and inked the deal. In the summer of 1987, Bam Bam Bigelow was primed for his pro wrestling – and television – debut.

As previously mentioned, there was no need to make any adjustments to Bam Bam's persona. He had a wrestling name, a nickname, and a look…ok, so he still needed a mouthpiece. As you may have surmised, a man who spent the first few decades of his life hunting and gathering in a swamp the Middle Ages and was subsequently raised by Diamond Dallas Page didn't have what the insiders call "mic skills". So the solution was simple: they teamed him up with a sixty-year-old sequin-wearing leprechaun named Oliver Humperdink. Wow, I wish I were making that last part up. But, as I'm not, let's move on to Bam Bam's first noteworthy match in WWF. This was a spot in the main event of the newest yearly Pay Per View event, the Survivor Series. He took part in a five-on-five elimination tag match versus Andre the Giant and friends as part of a team headed by the Immortal Hulk Hogan, who you may remember from the wildly popular _Rock N' Wrestling_ cartoons of the mid-80's. Long story short, the match comes down to a wildly popular Bam Bam facing off against the legend, Andre. Bam Bam, not having paid his dues just yet, was pinned for the loss, but it was a temporary setback. He was getting such a great response from the fans that he bounced right back and stormed into 1988 with a world of momentum, toppling the hated Giant to win the World title at Wrestlemania.

Haha, just kidding. This WAS WWF circa 1988, after all. Hogan sensed Bigelow's threat to his popularity and position atop the federation, and had him buried by stiffs like One Man Gang until he finally got frustrated and quit. There was also a popular rumor that Bam Bam angered Hogan by allegedly stealing the champ's idea for a line of flame-patterned female active wear, but that's never been proven, so take it for what you will.

Little is known about the next five years of Bam Bam's life, and anything that's been reported is simply rumor and hearsay. In that way, he's sort of like Jesus Christ. Except that Jesus disappeared for eighteen years, not five. And Bam Bam only pissed off the Mexicans, who are much more harmless than the Romans. Oh, and Mel Gibson hasn't filmed an epic movie and built a church in Bigelow's name…yet. But rumor has it that Ron Howard's brother Clint has something in the works. Think of it as "Ice Cream Man" meets "The Dentist", with a splash of "The Waterboy". I just hope he works in a scene built around Bam Bam's rumored marriage to Eleanor Roosevelt. He had nothing to fear but…sex with Eleanor Roosevelt.

In 1993, Bam Bam finally resurfaced, swallowed his pride (as well as several small woodland creatures), and signed on for a second tour of duty with the WWF. He was no longer the naïve youngster with dreams of unseating Hulk Hogan. Luckily, Hogan wasn't even around anymore to hold Bigelow down. Still, there was just no keeping him happy. He swore up and down that he was the victim of the political games of "The Clique", which consisted of Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, Shawn Michaels, Sean Waltman, Jean-Paul Levesque (aka Triple H), and Bastion Booger. I've done lots of in-depth research and talked to several sources, and everyone seems to agree that this is a load of paranoid baloney. It seems that Bam Bam was a victim of his own self-defeating attitude more than anything else. If only he had smiled more, and believed in himself, maybe he would have been stealing the show in ladder matches and schmoozing with Pamela Anderson instead of feuding with midget clowns and jobbing to crackhead football players.

As I just mentioned, the most high-profile feud of Bam Bam's WWF career (and his career in general) was a Wrestlemania XI-headlining bout with former New York Giants linebacker Lawrence "LT" Taylor. Bigelow may have come out of the match looking like a joke for letting a novice kick out of his finisher and beat him, but it wasn't all a loss. At the post-show party, LT shared his finest crack and one of his skankiest whores with his opponent. Unfortunately, the Beast from the East got a little mixed up. He woke up the next morning with a terrible burning sensation on his Little Bammer, and a prostitute sticking out of his mouth. Once word of the incident got out, Bam Bam was humiliated. Vince McMahon soon learned of it, and made a very tough decision. He was still hurting from the highly publicized steroid scandal, and wasn't about to face another mainstream media blitz. He fired Bigelow immediately, and gave his planned women's title reign to a more "conventional" champion…I forget who it was. Probably Moolah.

Bam Bam had no idea what to do next. He still wanted to wrestle, but he was gun-shy after his perceived mistreatment in WWF. So he moved on to the polar opposite of the big business, sanitary Fed: Paul Heyman's ECW. There, his unorthodox looks and exotic smells fit right in with such hardcore luminaries as Sabu, Raven, and Terry Funk. He had a great time wrestling for ECW, as he was able to fulfill his lifelong dream of hurling a dirty hippie in airbrushed tights through a table. The only downside was that Bam Bam had to wrestle for free, because Paul Heyman's mother withheld his allowance whenever he didn't do his chores. Still, Bigelow capitalized on his popularity with ECW fans by letting them ride him to the arena for a small fee. He had to register with the DMV as a tractor-trailer, but it was well worth it.

After rebuilding his shattered reputation in ECW, Bam Bam soon found his way back to the Big Two. Eric Bischoff had done a little homework and discovered two things. One, Bam Bam used to work for Vince McMahon, and two, he would most likely accept large amounts of money if offered. Although Bam Bam soon found himself buried underneath loads of nWo wrestlers and cruiserweights, he did find a silver lining in WCW. He was reunited with his old friends DDP and Kanyon, who had finally evolved into something resembling a human being, as the Jersey Triad terrorized the denizens of Turnerland throughout the first hour of Nitro and Thunder each week. Whether they were putting Alka Seltzer in El Dandy's coffee or pushing around Kevin Nash in a wheelbarrow, the Triad had some wacky adventures…until, of course, Vince McMahon bought the company and crushed their souls. Of course, it took a lot to keep Bam Bam Bigelow down. He reinvented himself completely, retiring from wrestling and becoming a popular television icon. You may know him as self-help guru Dr. Phil. Yep, that's all. Oh, and he died, too.

...and if you're wondering how can he be Dr. Phil AND dead at the same time? He just CAN, ok? He's **_that_** frickin' awesome.

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><p>Thanks for tuning in, hope you enjoyed!<p> 


	15. DDP

Disclaimer: Hey, I don't own shit.

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><p>Ahhh yes, another night, another bio. Tonight, due to request by<em><strong> BubblyShell22<strong>_, I bring to you the biography of one Diamond Dallas Page. Yes, we're going to talk POSITIVELY about Page, and I'm going to POSITIVELY give it to you straight, and, you know me—I don't bullshit when I give MY bios.

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><p>Okay, Dallas Page (born Diamond Joseph Cutterburg, Jr.; April 5, 1956), better known by his ring name "Diamond" Dallas Page (DDP), is a retired professional wrestler, fitness instructor and actor, signed to WWE in a "Legends" contract. In the course of his wrestling career, which spanned 5 decades, Page has wrestled for WCW, WWE, and TNA.<p>

Page first broke into the wrestling business in 1962, as a manager in the AWAWA (All Whores, All Ways, …Association), where he worked for nine grueling months, Getting coffee for the likes of Baron Von Raschke, Nick Bockwinkel, and Jake "The Milkman" Milligan, before signing with WCW in 1991. There, his coffee-getting skills were so appreciated that, backstage, Barry Windham gave him his nickname—DDP, which stood for "Damn Dynamic Percolatin'" at every event, he'd get everyone's coffee—EVEN Kerry VonErich's!

Of course, Kerry, being the "Texas Tornado", couldn't properly walk with his coffee—mostly because he spun around to get wherever he needed to go and his coffee would always spill—I mean, him being a "Texas Tornado", and all. One night, he set a record—he retrieved 20 coffees in one ORDER! And this was before those plastic cup holders, too! For a while, he was called "OctoPage", because people thought he had 8 arms, carrying all that coffee at one time without spillage.

Anyway, this continued until late 1991, when he was at ringside, getting the timekeeper some coffee, Rick Rude was facing Sting, Rude attempted a flying plancha onto the floor, but sting moved and shoved Page in the way. Rude landed on Page and coffee was EVERYWHERE! However, it was on THAT fateful night, DDP decided he wanted to be a wrestler for the WCW!

Over a decade in WCW, Page won a couple titles, all the while shouting "BANG!" at random intervals. His ex-wife Kimberly said that it got on her nerves. During a recent interview, she had this to say, "Oh...you're talking about HIM? Yeah, he had this thing where, we'd be doing it doggy, right? Well, he'd be trying to slam into me all hard and shit, he'd be all like "BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, and so on. The sad thing IS, is that he'd always keep slipping out, saying, 'BANG, BANG, BAN—oh…whoops, let me…ah, here we go…BANG, BANG, BANG…etcetera, etcetera. It got on my fucking NERVES! He'd be trying to pound away, and I'd just be rolling my eyes, trying to watch _Lipstick Jungle_, or something."

Needing something new to add to his marriage, he met fellow "Joisey" residents, Bam Bam Bigelow and Kanyon. Getting a mischievous glimmer in his eye, he started inviting Bammer and Kanyon over to help him run train on Kimberly. And, lemme' ELL you-there was just...so MUCH anal sex at these "parties" that, after about the 5th month of this, Kimberly's bunghole looked like StarGate. When she farted, it sounded like someone blowing into a glass bottle.

So, let's fast forward here-all this time passes, and next thing Page knows is that WCW gets sold to WWE. Page's eyes light up as he realizes his dream is coming true—he's gonna' work for the WWE! He calls all of his family and friends and asks them to tune into him stalking Taker's old lady _(at the time)_, Sara. Several years of cleaning out the leftover grime from various coffee machines and cleaning up spilled semen from wrestlers "convincing" writers and other wrestlers for pushes, has prepared him to stomach even PRETENDING to be interested in a chick that looks like Mitt Romney with a blonde wig on.

So, he stomachs stalking an ugly hoe and then being buried by Undertaker. Yep, he was literally "buried alive"—pun SO intended.

Well, the tombstone that Taker laid on him must've knocked some sense into him, because after ALL THESE YEARS, he finally decided to brush his teeth and start thinking of things in a positive light. After chasing Sara, he realized that the ending of that angle "wasn't a bad thing, it was a good thing". So, he kept on thinking positively until he POSITIVELY injured himself to the point to where he had to let his contract expire.

On the advice of Scott Steiner, he took some of what Scott takes to stay so big—that's right, people—Page turned to a life of drugs! One night, when he was alone and bored and couldn't think of a reason for living, he called up his ex-wife, Kimberly. When she picked up, she was panting heavily and Page could hear some faint rhythmic squeaking in the background, sort of like a mattress of some sort. He spilled his guts and said to her that tonight was the night—he was going to OVERDOSE! Kimberly just said "Mmm-hmm" and then Page could hear the phone being dropped along to the hypnotic rhythm of people fucking.

He stared at the receiver and hung up. He looked at the bottle of pills beside him and picked it up. He looked at it and then started to sob gently to himself as he opened the bottle and swallowed the pills as if he were Popeye eating spinach.

Hours later, Kimberly rushes over, and finds DDP not only alive and well, but vacuuming, dusting, and mopping the kitchen floor—ALL AT THE SAME TIME!

She looked around, concerned, but found an empty bottle of FLINSTONE VITAMINS on the floor. She divorced him the next morning, took half his shit and brought a Porsche, a new hairdo, a new silicone ass, and a Blow-Pop. She's currently living out of her Porsche and her blow pop was the last meal she's had—you can find her at Dunkin Donuts, trying to hock her Porsche for a powdered crème-filled.

So, Page picked himself up and headed to TNA. Jeff Jarrett kept shorting him on his paychecks, he tried to diamond cutter him for it, but Jeff no-sold it and hit him over the head with a guitar and fired him. Jeff said, "I don't WANT ennybody with teeth CLEANER then miiine een my fed, so ah told 'eem to git' lawst!"

So now he's back in WWE and pretty much just hangs around backstage in, getting coffee for the likes of Yoshi Tatsu and Hornswoggle. Orton said he was tired of him always asking him how much "BANG" he wanted in his coffee.

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><p>Welp, that's it! Hope you enjoyed—oh, and Shell, this Bud's for you!<p>

.

Thanks to all who supported this series, from this point forward, I'll ONLY update this series via request. So if you have a request, PM me, I don't bite...unless you WANT me to, then... Other than that, consider this series "Complete...until the next request comes in". Just to make it crystal for anyone who STILL may not "get it"-This series is done unless YOU, the reader, want it to keep going.


	16. Kane

Disclaimer: You know it and I know it—I don't own shit.

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><p>Welcome back! Tonight's bio is about the WWE's local monster. That's right! It's the "big Red Machine"—KAAAAAAANE! Folks, you can thank Enigmatic Kaneanite for making this request and keeping this series going for yet one more chapter. <em><strong>My apologies if you had trouble accessing this chapter-blame this buggy website!<strong>_

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><p>The year was 1977. The Bee Gees were huge, our President was a laughable pile of monkey crap, and young Mark Calloway was exploring what happens when you kill your parents and your brother in a large inferno. Little did he know that all he'd get is boos and a one hour jail sentence that ends on his personal recognizance. Ah, to be a wrestler and have immunity from every law in the book. It must get no better.<p>

However, the job was not complete. His little brother, Kane, had managed to escape, thanks to the quick rescue efforts of his father, Paul Bearer, who had fathered Kane during an extramarital affair that showcased Mrs. Calloway's lust and desire for pale, chubby 12-year-olds. Oh, and thanks to Enigmatic Kaneanite _(Our sponsor tonight)_ for revealing Kane and Bearer's age difference. It makes the whole story seem even weirder, and yet more alluring…

Paul pulled his son out of the burning wreckage of the mourning room, but it was almost too late, as Kane had roasty-toasty burns on over 70% of his body. He had to be whisked away to the local intensive care unit as soon as possible, where doctors worked diligently to make Kane any less of a charred up freak _(official terminology. Doctors use it, don't expect to understand it.)_ Thanks to the doctors' efforts, as well as Kane's youthful vigor, his life was saved. Unfortunately, he still had ugly, disgusting, burnt skin covering most of his body, _(again, medical terms, not mine. I'm not insensitive and I don't go out of my way to insult anyone, you pathetic assclown)_ and he was told he had to bear those scars for the rest of his lonely, grief-filled days.

Kane tried to fit back in at school, but the other children, being children and therefore inherently cruel and evil banana loafs of doom, mercilessly taunted the poor burn victim. Eventually, Kane snapped and proceeded to decimate the school bully in a matter too gruesome to describe here. If you want an idea of what Kane did to his tormenter, go to rotten dot com and peruse the death section. It's not pretty, but neither was what happened to the bully that messed with Kane.

Soon after that incident, young Kane was committed to a mental ward, where the only non-staff member he came into contact with was his ever lovin' pappy, Paul. As Kane grew older, he began to grow lonely. He yearned to go outside, see the world, meet new people and rip their heads off. Again, different strokes for different folks. Fish gotta' swim, birds gotta' fly, Kane's gotta' make someone else die.

To add to his anguish, Kane had noticed that his brother Mark was on WWF TV a lot, dressed like an undertaker in open mocking of his late father's profession. Kane wanted to wrestle too, and he wanted to get at his brother while he was at it. Cuz' there's nothing like killing your brother and getting a title shot for your actions. Again, immunity from prison of any kind simply because you're a wrestler is the greatest thing in the world. You should all try it, whether you're a huge tank like Brock Lesnar, or a scrawny little twerp like…well, Hornswoggle.

Kane began to train while still committed, _(yes, the asylum had a wrestling ring. WORK WITH ME HERE PEOPLE! sakes…)_ and he was progressing along nicely when one of the attendants told Paul that he had a sister who really liked big, strong, insane men with antisocial tendencies and murderous intentions. And she REALLY got wet over them if they talked with voice boxes. To top it ALL off, she was having a kegger that weekend, and she wanted to know if any guy in the area would be her daddy for a night or two.

Well, Paul asked Kane if he wanted to meet some women, and Kane accepted, realizing that he could start his insane rampage of death the very next night. The more lives he took, the closer he got to Mark…

Hey, I'm doing what I can with this plot. It's a retarded story as it is, if ya' think about it. I'm only trying to tie it together. Is that too much to ask? _*sob…whimper…*_

OK, crying over, back to story time.

Kane arrived at the kegger and spotted the woman that he had been set up with. This was Katie Vick, the head cheerleader of the local community college. She was gorgeous, sexy, quirky, and dumber than whoever booked WrestleMania 27. Kane quickly began to seduce her with his soft, soothing, Robocop vocals, and after a few drinks, his murderous intent had begun to dwindle away. He felt a strange feeling inside that he had never felt before, but he knew it was good, and it made him happy.

He soon decided to steal a car and drive Katie back to his cell for some Big Red Lovin'. Because as we all know, nothing screams romance like padded walls and attendees watching over you 24/7. But it's all Kane had, so he needed to make do and improvise if he wanted to impress Katie.

Next came the fabled crash, fueled by alcohol, speed, and the fact that Kane had never actually driven anything before. He neglected to tell Katie that little factoid though, and she paid for that with her life. Details, Kane! Details!

When Kane awoke, with the car totaled and his clothes torn, he saw Katie's corpse and panicked. Remembering a first aid video he had watched some time ago, Kane attempted chest compressions, but to no avail. Then, after thinking very hard, Kane had another idea. Compressing with the hands alone wasn't enough, he reasoned, he should use his whole BODY to save Katie's life _(he was known as the Big Red Retard to us for a reason…)_. So, he laid on top of her and began body compressions. After about 45 seconds of this, Kane suddenly felt very warm down below. Seems he had been compressing a bit too far down, and…

*quick note from good ol' JR: BAH GAWD, THIS IS SICK! SICK, I TELL YOU! THERE'S NO SEMEN IN RATED T FAN FICTION, BAH GAWD! THIS IS…gahkkkk!*

Y'know, I wondered when his heart would explode. Oh well, I won't lose any sleep. Maybe now the WWE can hire someone with full control of their face.

Anyway, after that incident, Kane ran back to his father, very upset over what he had done. Paul told him not to worry, as Kane was well on his way to being a wrestler, and wrestlers are allowed to do anything without penalty, as I stated earlier. And on top of that, Paul had a special surprise prepared for his son.

Kane eagerly unwrapped the present and discovered a red body suit and a red mask. Kane's first wrestling costume. Plus, Paul told him, it would help to hide all the disgusting, brutal, charred scars that were still infesting Kane's hideously ugly body _(OK, my words, not his. But I'm the writer and I have creative pull here. So n'yah.)_

The rest is history, to be honest. Kane is released from the asylum and shows up at No Mercy '97, ready to kill his brother. But you can't kill what is already dead, and Undertaker lives on. Kane, meanwhile, became much more human over time, eventually discovering voice lessons, love, and Cheri's Country Cottage Body Lotion for very dry skin, which helped his complexion enough to wear a sleeveless costume and, ultimately a less constricting mask. And, now, all is well. He's no longer out for revenge against his brother, but he now seems to enjoy picking on smaller wrestlers. For instance, he attacked Primo, Epico, R-Truth, AND Dolph Ziggler. In fact, he's been on such a roll that he whooped Randy Orton at Wrestlemania 28!

After their match, after Kane dribbled Randy's head off of the mat as if it were a basketball, I tried to interview Randy and he just rubbed his head and said, "You know, I-I think dad was right—I should've went with that 'singing fish' gimmick. It's just getting too painful being a viper."

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><p><strong><em>Folks, thanks for reading, and Enigmatic Kaneanite—crack open a High Life, this one's for you! If you're too young, then…crack open a Pepsi, or something. Remember folks, if you have a request for this series, just PM me—otherwise, I'm leaving this series "closed", because I'm really done with it.<em>**

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**_Reviews are always appreciated!_**


	17. The Miz

Disclaimer: Do I own shit? Nope.

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><p>Ok folks! Tonight's bio comes from superfan "BrickSquadBabyy"! Tonight is a an AWESOME one, indeed! Why? Glad you asked! It's only awesome because it's all about 'da MIZ, babayyy! So hold on, put on your strap-on, and let's MOVE on!<p>

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><p>Perhaps one of the most personal "Biographies" stories to me is the one about mike Mizanin. You see, Michael was...no, IS the reason I love wrestling. He has a nickname for every move right down to a collar and elbow tieup(which he cleverly titled "MIZ PROPULSION") and he knows how to get a crowd going. Not to mention he designed his own trunks and realized the thing that nobody before him had known. Simple trunks just AREN'T GAY ENOUGH. You need to put nylon-type stockings on them! But this isn't a shrine to Mike Mizanin, no, that's in my bedroom, taking up over 78% of the room space. Nay, this is to inform you all of what Jason has been doing since we last saw him, KICKING ASS AND TAKING NAMES, AIRPLANE, er, MIZ STYLE!<p>

Since leaving the plentiful lands of reality TV, Miz has kept involved in competitions. Most recently he's been training heavily for the "Manual Rhino Ejaculation Olympics", or the M.R.E.O Speedwagons. This is a much more grueling task than one would think. Normally when one pictures someone masturbating a rhino to the point of ejaculation, in which literal BUCKETLOADS of semen spew forth, you'd think it's a simple walk in the park, maybe employing a little wine and vaseline. Miz would beg to differ.

"Not since my match with Bobby Lashley in ECW have I had such a tough job. It's amazing though, the ECW job was probably less tough, but this one pays me more than Ritz Crackers and old Donruss baseball cards, so they've already got Paul Heyman beat."

After taking 4th in the Sanilac County Rhino Ejaculating Preliminaries, Miz realized he was missing that "special something". What was it? Simple! Catchy names involving jets and other forms of aircrafts for everyday tasks! For example, a basic part of masturbating a rhino is to lovingly caress the rhino's big leather-like nuts. Miz doesn't refer to this as the common term, "Nut stroking", no folks, he calls it, "SUPER-FLYING JETWAVED 747 STROKE-A-METER"! And how! This started to get old Miz noticed around the circuit, and soon, he was being called into every competition there was.

Unfortunately, Miz had spent so much time working on names, such as the "Flying Jet Wave Dick Yank" and the "Propellered Pecker Pull", and didn't even work on his actual rhino-pleasing techniques. He hit his all-time low at the County Championships. While trying to please his rhino, he went for the famed "sack pinch" method, but his rhino was not yet warmed up and responded with a heavy back kick, connecting heavily in the jaw of Miz.

Miz went into a coma for several days before being revived finally. Doctors even diagnosed Miz as being severely retarded, but it was discovered he had been a retard since birth, thus explaining his fascination as a grown man with jets and airplanes. Miraculously, Miz was unharmed by the rhino's kick, but he was obviously afraid of rhinos now. The kick DID knock his testosterone into high gear though, and Miz…Miz was looking for love in all the wrong places. And he developed Tourette's, as well, causing him to yell the word "AWESOME" pretty much at random.

After wasting most of his life savings on peep shows and lap dances, Miz spiraled into depression. He needed his fix of whores and near sexual encounters, but didn't have the money for it. That's when fate came into play. Since all his clothes reeked heavily of sweat, nachos and semen, Miz wore his wrestling gear to the strip joint one night. Local manager "Jenny Jugs" noticed his unique pants, found out he designed and made them himself, and put him to work making cutting edge crotchless pant suits for the girls, and of course, other sexy outfits that didn't get stained from whipped cream or hot fudge. In return, Miz got free handjobs from Raquel, the blind stripper. Raquel was told she was just polishing salami for the night's refreshment booth. Miz was having the time of his life, but things were going to get even BETTER, er—more AWESOMER soon...

One fateful night at the club, they were understaffed and Jenny Jugs made a decision. Seeing as Miz could backflip and had slight man-boobs, he was forced onstage, where he erotically humped a bottle of tabasco sauce. The crowd booed him offstage and he wept bitterly at his failure, until he heard a knock at the door of his dressing room. He answered it to find...Maryse?

Maryse had seen the act that night, she smelled of perfume and boiled eggs, but was smitten. Miz and Maryse were dating steady just days later, and they live a happy life together, RIGHT HERE, IN THIS VERY RING... or maybe in Omaha, I'm not sure. When asked about the marriage, Maryse said:

_"Oh I love heem so much. We get along, we're best friends, and 'ze sex is GREAT. He wears a gas mask to bed or when we have 'ze sex. He doesn't laugh at my body o'dair! He uses all 'ze rhino techniques on me, and zere's nothing better 'zan when my big hairy leeps slap all over the place while I spew in his eyes."_

Miz Miz. Innovator. Creator of cool names. Rhino Masturbator. Stripper Outfit Designer. Boyfriend of Maryse. Amazed at his girl's immense sugar walls. Congratulations Miz, you've proved there IS life aside from wrestling all the time. Even for homos!

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><p><em><strong>The End. Hope you enjoyed! BrickSquadBabyy! This one's for you! People, you keep sending me these requests, I ain't never gonna' get this closed, lol! But, I'll do them for as long as you all can stand it! Bottoms up!<strong>_

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_**Reviews are always appreciated!**_


	18. Kelly Kelly

Disclaimer: All wrestlers are the property of WWE-their souls belong to Vince, though.

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><p>Ok, here I am, back yet AGAIN, with a SPECIAL edition of the Biography tonight. Yeah, this is from one of my faithful fans—<em><strong>Cult of Personality!<strong>_ I've been meaning and meaning to get to this one, but I've kept forgetting—plase forgive me, Cult. However, NOW it's here! This is a special episode because of the fact that I'm doing this one interview-style! I've recently had a chance to chat with Kelly-Kelly of the WWE. Now, be mindful that this is a transcript of the conversation and the way the words appear—YES, that how they were actually said!

I've been away for the past couple of weeks, and I haven't watched a lick of wrestling since I've been away, but recently an e-mail was sent to me that touched me in a way that only my grandfather had been able to do before. And since the sender of said mail was Kelly Kelly, I much prefer the latter's touch. Not that I've felt it for real or anything—but ANYWAY…here goes…

.

Recently, Kelly has fallen on some hard times. I'd tell you all about it, but I think her gentle, soothing, and pathetically-spelled words speak far louder than mine. After all, she got legs, and she knows how to use 'em.

_Dear Al,_

_Please helpm e! Al the meen men are doing maen thengs to me! The man with the mussels and the chain male was supossed to b my guyfrend, but now he's beeting m,e up a long with Kane, who keeps pumpslaming me to the hard hard; hard matt. I want2 do something!_

_Ive also noticd that other wymmyn (girl powr!) are getting beetin up too. So, I hav decidedd that its up to me to protest these girls from the beetings that they've been getting! So I beg you, Wolverine, please let the reedrs of this web site know about the Kelly Kelly Batterd Wymmon,s Sheltr, and all the goohd wee d o. Thankee! :-D_

_Lovey dovies,_

_Kelly_

Now then, I'm sure you can see why I was inspired to give light to Kelly's cause. The poor Divas of the WWE have suffered long enough, and it's time to act. So in my spare time that wasn't eaten up by school, travel, fine cuisine, and being passed out from drunkenness, I put together a video summarizing what it is they do over at the KKBWS. But, since I can't put video on the Internet, being incompetent and everything, enjoy the _text_ of the video, and some, uh...MENTAL pictures of all the goils that get a can of whoop-ass opened up on them every time they step into the ring. Ok, here's the footage…

"_Ladies! Are you tired of feeling like the woman above every time you step into the squared circle? Are you sick of getting body-slammed by a large, smelly musclehead who uses your pain to get himself over? Well, so am I! And it's not just because I'm getting paid in conjugal visits from ODB for doing this ad. Though that's a big part of it…but so is my conscience, ladies! And my conscience is ready to help spread the word around. You're tired of abuse? Then come down to the Kelly Kelly Battered Women's Shelter. Now, while I go see Victoria about getting 'paid'!"_

_._

**_Now, without further ado, HEEEEEEEEEEERE'S _the KKBWS founder herself, Kelly Kelly!__**

Kelly: Um…I didn't found the KKBWS. I founded the Kelly Kelly Battered Women's Shelter, thank you very much!

Me: They're the same thing, Kelly. It's called an acronym. The letters in KKBWS all start different words in the name of your company.

Kelly: Acro…nym? Hmmm…wait a minute…K is for Kelly…K is for Kelly…B is for battered…C is for cookie…that's good enough for me…OH COOKIE COOKIE COOKIE?

Me: Kelly! Pay attention, woman!

Kelly: Ooopsie, heheheheh…sorry. W is for women…and S is for…for…oh, right! SHELTER! YES YES YES! I did it! I did a macaroninym all by myself!

Long live gratuity!

Me: That's delightful, Kelly. Now, your shelter?

Kelly: Oh right. That. *ahem* I started this shelter because I was tired of being treated like trash by all the men of the WWE. Look at Kane beating me up in matches. I mean, come on! What kind of monster hits a woman like that? It doesn't matter if I was contractually bound to be in the match and was a legitimate competitor who could legally get attacked by either member of the opposing team! That's no excuse! The least they could've done was bow down to me and give me a dozen red roses. THAT'S how you treat a lady, not by scoop-slamming her within an inch of her life. Meanies! *pouts*

The kKW…I mean, KKBWS already has several people staying here, nursing their wounds until the next terrible, awful, no good, very bad thing happens to them. It's our job to make sure that nothing like that happens to them again. I mean, just listen to what another victim of squared circle abuse, Mrs. Linda McMahon, has to say about her ordeals:

McMahon: Compute…compute…processing physical pain…data confirmed…When Undertaker put me in a Tombstone Piledriver, my circuits were scrambled just from the trauma of being abused like I was. Now while it is factually evident that I was…was…was…oiiiiiiiillllll?

Kelly: I'll save you, Stone Cold! *oils*

McMahon: Visual circuits are go…now, while it is…factually evident…that my circuits were never actually damaged…as my head was at least ten inches off the ground the entire time…I was mentally traumatized all the same. And that…is just…as bad for my system…if not worse. My husband does not…care about me, and I am constantly…being mocked…by every fan in existence. This shelter is my one…and…only…home…now…weeping…weeping…Lieutenant Data was wrong…human…emotions…are not…desirable to…have…weeping?

Kelly: There, there, Mrs. McMahon. I think you need to rest. Where's your off switch? Ah, here it is…oh, dangit. That's her self-destruct button…hope Vince still has the blueprints so we can make another CEO. Uh oh, camera's still on…um…hey, look everyone! It's Mae Young! Mae, I know you've had a few shots of bourbon, but can you tell the people about all the horrible things that have happened to you at the hands of WWE men anyway?

Mae: Few? What kinda non-drinkin' puss ya take me for, misshy? Few shots, try a few bottles! Makes me wanna' show my puppies! You wanna shee my puppieshh? I'm gonna show my puppiesshhh!

…Sorry, no free peepshow for you.

I bet you loved my puppiesshhhh! Now then, about getting beaten up, it sucksshh, it really does. I've been thrown through more tables than a klutzy dancer at a strip joint, and I've had my neck broken too many timessh to count, and now Randy Orton beats me up too! Sucks for him, cuz I thought he was cute. He coulda gotten a close-up glimpse of my puppiessshhh! But now he's never getting it…no, you're never gonna get it, never ever gonna get it, my lovin? no you're never gonna get it, never ever gonna get it…PUPPIESSH...zzzz...

Kelly: shhh...it's nappy time here at the SK...B...FO...no, wait...W...B...oh shoot! Acrimonynyms are hard! But you know what I'm trying to say. Oh, and don't think this is strictly a female-only cause, oh no! We here at the Battered Women's Shelter embrace any man who is brave enough to stand up for our righteous cause. I have two of them with me today. Please listen to Al Snow and Jonathan Coachman as they tell us all about why we need your time, love, support, and bank account numbers.

Snow: Hi, I'm Al. I'm a TNA road agent and former host of WWE Sunday Night Heat, along with my buddy Coach. Occasionally, we used to get to be on Raw, and when we did, we were monster heels. I mean, we'd jeer Stone Cold, for God's sakes! Only a true heel would do something like that! We'd also suggest that Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler are old has-beens who need to be put to pasture, and replaced with people who don't need daily organ transplants. I tell ya, we were totally uncensored, and completely badass when let loose!

Coach: Well, right now, I'm very happy at my job with ESPN! Haha! But, I can recall one time, while hosting RAW for the one measly week that we took it over, we saw something that tugged at even our evil, blackened hearts. Poor little Kelly Kelly was being decimated by not one, but TWO, big bullies named Big show and Khali. And here we thought Show was a nice, decent guy who treated women with the respect they deserve. How wrong we were, that bastard! It was such a heinous act that even Al and I, men so evil that our own mothers disavow us and Satan is too afraid to let into Hell, were disgusted by the acts of Showand Khali. Why do people DO such horrible things, Al? I'm scared!

Al: Don't fret, little buddy. It's alright. Here at the KKBWS, the poor, innocent women are able to walk free, without fear of getting hurt by wrestlers at the wrestling company that they work for. Too many people point like to make excuses for those kinds of actions, such as, "Well, they work in a wrestling company, and they occasionally wrestle, so they should accept these risks,or even worse, "That was scripted. Stop taking the stories so seriously. You fucking imbeciles.

I mean, really, what kind of excuses are those? Scripts? Contracts? Those are not reasons to hurt innocent girls like the men of the WWE love to do. So please. Find it in your hearts, even if they're as black and unfeeling as Coach's and mine, to give support and money to the KKBWS. Thank you…and down with Jerry Lawler.

Kelly: Thank you, guys. See? Even cruel and heartless heels understand why our cause is so important. And if they can see the light, then surely you nice people can find it in your souls to support the SK…um…SK…well, anyway! I even have a witness-here's AlKaholiK's sister, ALLIE-KaholiK, back from cashing her paycheck, so to speak, with a final word.

Allie: Umm…yeah, what**_ she_** said. Donate, and support, and shit. I'm all for the KKBWS. It's a good cause, and shilling for them pays quite well. Much moreso than interning at Ted Kennedy's office did. I mean, I'm technically getting paid the same, but the pay here is so much more enjoyable, ya know?

_[Interview segment ends, cameras cut to AlKaholiK, live in the studio...]_

"Ah...that's my sis! Oh c'mon, stop puking and dry-heaving. Like you've never had a summer job **you** hated. Alright, back to the cause. If you wanna donate, just Paypal **me** your money. I'll make sure the KKBWS gets it **all**. Cross my heart, hope you die."

.

Aaaaaaaand, we're done. Were _**you **_moved? Or were just your _**bowels**_ moved? Let me know in a review, lol! This bud's for you, Cult!


	19. Jeff Hardy

Disclaimer: Look at the previous chapter—it's the SAME!

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><p>Ok folks, I'm back with another biography! This time, it's by request of the one AAAAND only-<em><strong>Enigmatic Kaneanite!<strong>_ Tonight, we're going to learn the rather SURPRISING history of one of wrestling's beloved—Jeff Negro Hardy! Let's rawk!

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><p>When asked to name the best wrestler of the modern era, most American fans usually shout names such as Ric Flair, Bret Hart, and Shawn Michaels. The overwhelming response, of course, is Lash Leroux. But many people have only been able to see the stars of the WWF, WCW, and about 14 people saw ECW matches. Well, a little known fact is that there is wrestling in Japan as well. And today, I want to help you know more about one of Japan's biggest stars-Jeff Hardy!<p>

You see, a LOT of people don't know that Jeff Hardy is actually Japanese. They think he's Matt Hardy's brother, when, in fact, he ISN'T. Check this out…

Born in 1831, _(they live longer in Japan),_ Jeff Hardy _(real name is a bunch of Japanese symbols, but it was translated as being: Bob Hardi)_ broke into wrestling in 1987 wrestling for All of New Big Japan as a false Tiger Mask to make the fans think that Tiger Mask (real name: Tiger Ali Mask-Singh) had joined the Evil Samurai Jap Army.

However people saw past his disguise and knew his subpar wrestling skills were nothing like Tiger Mask's, because his flip count was only 27 per match. He tried to fool the fans more by openly having sex with Tiger Mask's wife and beating his children, but the fans would have none of it.

Seeing himself as a disgrace, he decided to wrestle only one match each year against some guy named Kawada. Each year, he shows he has no skill since he has to take more than a half hour and use a lot of moves to defeat his opponent. Compare this to a good wrestler like Bill Goldberg who can defeat opponents right away using only about 2-3 moves, and you'll realize why japs do so badly in America.

Back to Jeff, around 1991 he decided he didn't like flipping anymore, so he became a heavyweight wrestler. The main difference in Japanese heavy and light heavy weight divisions is that lightweights tend to flip, while heavyweights clothesline and chop each other in the throat as hard as they can. Hardy's decision to choose being chopped in the neck over flipping proves he wasn't the smartest slant-eye around. He won Japan's illustrious "KING OF THE HEADLOCK" title, by defeating the corpse of Giant Baba in 48 minutes after reversing a full nelson into a half-nelson. Baba's corpse submitted after 11 minutes in the hold.

After the match, he felt hungry, so he decided to stop for some Chinese food. He met a very nice man there, his name was Matt Hardy _(real name: Matt Hardenschlong)_, who spoke up for him when the cashier didn't give him enough soy sauce for his 3 orders of fried rice. It was in this restaurant where, in a fit of anger, he invented his new catchphrase, "GIMME' SOME MORE SOY SAUCE PACKETS, WONG!" Anyway, Jeff followed Matt around for a few years actually, acting as his "brother" and they EVENTUALLY wound up working in the WWE with some skanky chick, but that's neither here nor there, aaaand I'm getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, when 1992 rolled around, Hardy decided he would try his luck in America. He wrestled a few times for the WWF, and was gaining popularity rapidly when he was called into a planning meeting with Vince McMahon. Hulk Hogan was there and they basically told Hardy that since he was not American, people didn't like him and he was evil. They worked out a program together, but couldn't agree on how it would work, seeing as Hardy wouldn't be "really hard to body slam", thus shattering Hulk's entire gameplan. The angle was scrapped and Hardy returned to his homeland where he was free to rape all the babies he wanted. That's what they do in Japan, you know.

By 1993, Hardy had broken his nose 11 times in matches and managed to defeat The Great Chono in a match in just 4 hours and 9 minutes after 39 kicks to the mouth. This unified the Most of Japan title with the A Small Portion of Japan title, making it the ALL OF JAPAN title. Hardy even gave an out of character interview in "engrish" after the match…

.

_"Well you know ah someting my bwuva! Hardy-Mania come foh __**you**__! What Arr of Japan going do when Hardy-mania wuns wired on you! Say you pwayews, take you-ah ritamins and use-ah rot of chop and kick!"_

.

Hardy lost his title to Yoshihiro Takajiragawa in a Barbed Wire Exploding Glass Cage match. Takajiragawa made Hardy submit to a finger submission hold at 17 hours and 24 minutes. He actually applied the move 14 minutes in. Dejected, Hardy decided to take a new approach. His next match was scheduled against Wang Hung Low. Hardy used his new strategy and slashed the throat of Low seconds into the match with a samurai sword. He then forced Low's children to eat their dinner from their fathers hollowed out head while he bitch-slapped the living crap out of their mom. Amazingly, this didn't turn Hardy heel fully with the fans, but it REALLY got Low's child some good face heat.

Chong Low took on Hardy to avenge his father's death. The fans were solidly behind him and chanted his name as he entered the ring. Hardy's music hit and the fans chanted even LOUDER for Chong Low, Jr. However, no one realized he was just 4 years old, and Hardy proceeded to rip Low's arms from his body and choke him to death with his very own elbows.

Hardy then entered the Kumitae tournament. He was a heavy favorite, defeating all challengers, including the large scruffy American biker. This paved the way for the big final match against Frank Dux. Hardy managed to throw salt in the eyes of Dux, but Dux remember he could catch fish with his eyes closed, and therefore he could defeat any jap in the world. Hardy was shamed with defeat. So he went the WWE for a few years, but that's not too important right now.

As for his career** now**, however, Hardy has been wrestling M. Bison in TNA since November 28th of last year. According to the latest reports, Hardy MAY be attempting to turn his PATENTED elbowlock into an elbow AND wristlock, and Bison may have to think of countering for a few more days.

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><p>Hey, thanks for reading! Please review! Ahhhh…yes, it feels <strong>so<strong> good to be back, lol! To the _**Enigmatic**_ one, a toast-HERE-HERE!


	20. John Cena

Disclaimer: I don't own shit, but thanks for asking.

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><p>Ok, real quick—tonight's episode is sponsored by Enigmatic Kaneanite…and Olde English 800 malt liquor. Tonight, we talk about the rappin, toe-tappin', ass-slappin', hand-clappin' John Cena! Or, as the WWE ring announcer would say, "JYYYYYAAAAAAANNNNNNN CEEEEENNNNNNAAAAAAAAAA!"<p>

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><p>John Cena (real name: Jon Seena) was born April 23, 1977, in West-SYYYYDE Newbury, Massachusetts, the son of Terri Bollea and her husband Ed Leslie. He is the second eldest of five brothers –Matt, Cat, Pat…and Hymie. After graduating from the P.N. News School of Thuganomix, Cena Brought his first rap album—Dr. Dre's "the Chronic". It was then that he knew he wanted to become a rapper—no, not like a candy wrapper, but a music rapper. While he was in the PN News School of Thuganometry, he was a Division III All-American center on their college football team, wearing the number 07, which he WOULD'VE used on his WWE merchandise, but the WWF (World Wildlife Federation) cam calling and threatened to sue the WWE over rights to the number "07" because that's how many pandas are left, or something.<p>

Aaaaanyway, moving on, he graduated from PN News' School with a degree in ring psychology, after which he pursued a career in boxing, where it didn't win him a damn thing because the other boxers made a pact and boycotted facing Cena because he'd USE this ring psychology when facing them—when he'd have a match, he'd be yelling at the audience and waving his boxing glove in front of his face "you can't see ME!". When the other boxers got ready to fight him and the match would be underway, he'd always roll out of the ring and taunt the audience. His manager, Mick (Real name: Burgess Meredith) told him, "Kid, you ain't no kinda' boxa'…maybe you should try wrasslin' out!" Cena blinked twice and set out to start a wrestling career.

Cena's wrestling career is DEFINITELY shaky. He started by attending Ultimate Pro Wrestling, run by Jim Warrior. That's where he learned the proper way to run down to the ring and shake ropes. Once he finally had the chance to wrestle instead of always bringing Warrior his steroid kit and coffee—black, with "just a l'il cream", he became a prototype of a robotic wrestler/cyborg—think RoboCop meets Terminator.

Eventually, he got sick of that and filled out an application to work for WWE. On his application, where it read 'Position applied for", he ACTUALLY put "World Champ". So, they were so impressed with his resume—it was filled out in crayon—that they offered him a job right on the spot!

He wound up in OVW, jobbing to the likes of Rico Constantino (real name: Puerto Rico Constantinos—his mom makes GREAT chili.), Spike Dudley…and Molly Holly.

Well, eventually, he got sick of that, too. He jobbed so often, he knew EXACTLY how many light bulbs were in each arena on the OVW tour schedule—he ALSO knew exactly which bulbs needed replaced.

Moving on, after a year in OVW hell, Cena finally got a phone call from a very-drunk Vince McMahon, inviting him to appear on RAW. He debuted and Kurt Angle wouldn't let him get a win over him, despite him performing his new finisher, the FU (which, of course, stands for Fellatio Unlimited) to him.

The next week, Cena realized his dream when he was given a gimmick of a rapper who cut promos while rhyming. So, he started messing around with people, cutting "freestlyles" in the middle of the ring week-in, week-out. He even tried to take his act on the road when Vince ordered him and a few other Superstars to get him some BBQ wings, a hooker, and some gin. Meh, but that didn't pan out to well for our rappin' pal.

Anyway, for the first part of 2003, Cena wanted some gold around his waist. He was wondering, "What's a nigga' to DO? I don't know, but I didn't learn this in school!" That's when something magical happened—it was where he first started rhyming his lines when he talks! A huge smile came upon the face of our doctor of Thuganometry. That's when he started going out and speaking to random people JUST do he can show off his new, umm…talent?

So we jump to around 2005, and Cena, wearing his new customized U.S. Championship belt. If I remember correctly, wrestling SUCKED that year, so I won't go into any further details. Yeah, 2005 DID suck—it sucked so badly, it jobbed to Bob Holly. Let's move on…

2006 hit and Cena decided to join the military. He enlisted in the Marines and got yelled at DAILY for rhyming his orders. "Atten-HUT! When I look at a woman, I like to see her BUTT!" You know, shit like that…

When the marines came calling again, they didn't want Cena back, they went with this REALLY bland guy named Ted…um, DiBiago, or something—I dunno', it ain't important anyway.

John's actively involved in the Make-a-Wish foundation. He almost resigned from the organization because someone submitted a wish that they wished poor John would get "hit by a car and die." I mean, REALLY—WHAT kid could be so mean and cruel? The wish was written in crayon and all the "e"s in the letter were written backwards. The "wish" was forwarded to police, but the police thought it was a napkin and just used it to grab another donut.

There's this one retarded kid at the Make-a-Wish foundation that hates John because John never lets him win at Madden football. The score is always like 150 – 3, or something like that. John gets a kick out of beating the slow kids at video games, but then when a smart kid beats him at Chess, he likes flipping the board up and storming out of the Make-a-Wish building.

Nowadays, John's doing fine. A few years back, he released his debut album—where he got his theme song, I might add. I went on the _Howard Stern Show_ and asked Iron Sheik about the album and he told me, and I quote, "This eh-album, eh-it is the GAY!" He then applied the camel clutch to me and my back hasn't been the same since. I gave it a listen and I now have a career as a hairdresser, I wear thong flip-flops with EVERYTHING, I own a cat, and my NEW favorite movie is "_Pretty Woman_".

…need I say more?

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><p><em><strong>Welp, that's it for this one! Enigmatic Kaneanite, this Bud's for you! Hope you enjoyed this. I'll be doing one more bio (Brock Lesnar), and, for the time being, I'm not taking any more requests as after I post the next Bio, I'll be concentrating my efforts on Grapefruits 4.<strong>_


	21. Brock Lesnar

Disclaimer: Same as it always is.

.

_Ok, this will be my last update on this series for a good while. Tonight's show is brought to you by the Bubbly one, herself—BubblyShell22…and Crown Royal Cognacs! I say that because I think I may have had a bit too much Crown Royal and it has "inspired" me to write this thing, here. I haven't had too much BubblyShell, though I'm sure it's possible, however. Ah well, let's go, shall we?_

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><p>Okaaaay, Brock Lesnar <em>(real name: Brockenmeyer Lester)<em> was born on the blighted, gritty, tough streets of Webster, South Dakota. As a kid, he was constantly teased because of his last name. The kids would mock him saying, "Hey Brock, I bet your middle name is 'Child-mo'!" And all the kids would laugh at poor little Brocky. Well, one day, he had enough. He started hitting the other kids with chairs, building blocks, die-cast cars—anything he could get his hands on. Over the years, he started getting comfortable in this "proactive" approach to dealing with teasing. So, it's only natural that he grew up being very defensive.

He attended his local high school in Webster, because the only mode of transportation his family had wasn't the family car—they had a family BIKE. Anyway, he wrestled in school and wound up getting suspended for F-5ing a teacher through a cafeteria table for giving him a "D" on his science exam and then pointing out—in front of the whole class—that that makes the 9th consecutive "D" he's gotten that year. The teacher went on to further embarrass Brock by saying that his grades for that marking period look like somebody with a stuttering problem trying to say "Doughnut" or something—"d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d…"

This was commonplace for Brock, actually, because he'd usually get distinguished "F"s, only on occasion he'd get a "C", and him and his family would celebrate by taking the family bike and riding down to the town square, where all the people of his city gathered—all 25 of them. They'd go people-watching—in other words, they'd just hang around and stare at people before Pop Lesnar would ride them down to the local Dairy Queen. They kicked him out of the drive thru because they don't allow bikes in the drive-thru. Buuuuut, it didn't stop Brock from getting his Mr. Misty! By the way, the local hang out was the Rite Aid store, where Brock and his friends would constantly be getting into trouble.

A couple years passed and Lesnar got sick of the home life and attended the University of Minnesota on a full wrestling scholarship for his junior and senior years of college; his roommate was fellow professional wrestler Shelton Benjamin who ALSO served as Lesnar's assistant coach. When we asked Lesnar what it was like rooming with Benji, he had this to say:

.

"_Yeah, Shelton's cool, I guess. His mom would come over and bring him food—mostly fried chicken and malt liquor. But DAYUM, did she have some big fucking TITS, man!"_

_._

It should be noted that, during this time, Lesnar's dad refinanced their home in order to get Brock his first car, a 1983 Honda Civic. The sad part was that, even after refinancing their home, Brock still owed $2000 for the car. The last time Pop Lesnar refinanced his home, he was trying to pay for a toaster from Rent-a-Center. Rent-A-Center has threatened the Lesnars with toaster repossession on numerous occasions because Pop Lesnar thinks he should've been done paying by now. But that's neither here nor there…or ANYWHERE, for that matter.

Anyway, prior to joining the Minnesota Golden Gophers, where they gave him an honorary gopher hat—it was a baseball cap with cartoonish eyes and buck teeth hanging down in front of the bill. Rumors circulate to this DAY that that hat was modeled after some goofy-looking kid from the remedial golfing class that went to school with Lesnar, some guy name Tiger Woods, I think. But that's not important, though.

Lesnar wrestled his way through college. However, there was one time that will go down in infamy. During a school assembly, Lesnar incited a riot by standing on stage in the auditorium and issuing an open challenge. Several teachers and some students accepted the challenge, however, Brock just kept suplexing everyone who came up on stage. By the time he was done, there were 15 bodies scattered across the stage with Brock standing there, smirking, while the other kids in the audience booed.

That's when a revelation hit him. He didn't know what it was, but it felt good, real good. He just had his first taste of "heel heat"! And he wanted more, much more.

In the days and weeks that came, he'd be wandering around town, doing all sorts of heel-ish things. There was an old lady who asked Brock to get her kitten out of a tree. Brock shook the tree and the kitten fell out of it but it landed on a rock, shattering its skull. Brock just stood there laughing as the old lady was crying, trying to revive her kitten. And, another time, he was hacking into peoples' Facebook accounts and sending pictures of his erect cock to random people on their friends lists…yeah, all SORTS of trouble.

Well, one day, his mom got tired of him being a nuisance and told him to get a job. Brock bought a newspaper and started searching the classifieds. Frustrated, he couldn't find any work. He knew Burger King was hiring, so was Mickey D's, but the most heel heat he'd get there would be if he spat in peoples' food or clipped one of his public hairs and put it in someone's milkshake, or something. Yeah, yeah, those things are good for a cheap laugh, but it wasn't REAL heel heat, like he desired.

Then, one fateful evening when he was on the toilet, a thought hit him! So, he finished up what he was…doing, filled his gas tank in his car, and drove to Stamford, CT. He went into the WWE offices and filled out an application to be a wrestler. He got hired, met some fat, balding Jewish guy name Paul, and they became lovers and he began his career, with Paul as his valet. He was happier than EVER, now that his dream was realized—he was wrestling, he was getting paid, he knew Paul had a crush on him, and all was well with the world. The one downside was, he didn't like wrestling Hogan-he complained that, after his matches with Hogan, the scent of Ben-Gay would take him a COUPLE of showers to get rid of.

He eventually got bored with that and went to MMA, where he could relive his high school and college days by hammering people for REAL! Brock eventually came back to WWE, though, where he is still at as I write this. Will his dreams continue to be realized? Yes and no. Will he further his career by remaining in WWE? No and yes. But, whatever road he decides to take, just remember—you heard it HERE first!

.

The end.

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><p><em><strong>Alriiiight, that it! This is the last update for this series for a while. I hope you all enjoyed this—especially YOU BubblyShell22. Shell, this one's for you! Please review and know that your comments are appreciated. Even if you can't STAND my writing style, let me know! I value opinion and, besides, speech is free!<strong>_


	22. Chris Jericho

Disclaimer: Same as it always is—I don't own shit.

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_**Welcome back! Tiiiiime once again, for another biography! This time, it's about the "Ayatollah of rock and Rollah"—Y2J, Chris Jericho! Yes, yes…in case you were wondering, no, I'm not done with this series…yet. So, don't fear—I'll be going up to chapter 25, and I'll be doing them by request ONLY—I need 3 more superstars and I'll pick them at random until I get to 25 chapters. Then, this thing is DONE! For GOOD!**_

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><p>Anyway, here's the skinny on Y2J…<p>

.

Now, many people are of the firm belief that one Y2J has regressed since his arrival in the WWE and long for his WCW days.. In fact, some of you have dared to call him inconsistent, sloppy, and even...fat.

The internet calling someone fat is like Michael Jackson making fun of Joey Budafucco's carnal preferences.

But I digress.

Chris Jericho is one of the few reasons to this day wrestling remains fun to watch...and it all occurs on WWE soil.

In WCW, Jericho could only be mid-card on a PPV if said event had three matches. Maybe. For years he toiled amidst the dregs of WCW, having matches against the likes of Stevie Ray, Silver King and Alex Wright. I know, I didn't know who they were either...I had to look them up. All I've heard lately is how Jericho was at his creative best making fun of Dean Malenko and his dead father. Quite a feat, considering Dean Malenko is mute. Jericho was so creative, so great, and such a pillar of excitement that he could get over even if he had some fat, balding janitor as a sidekick named Ralphus (For you old WCW marks—remember "Ralphus"? Lol)...

Or was it he couldn't get over unless he had a fat balding sidekick? That couldn't be it, it's not like he needed him to help retain his glorious and Cauliflower Alley-endorsed WCW Cruiserweight Championship.

Now some of you are probably screaming "but think of all the great matches he had with Benoit, Malenko and Guerrero!" That doesn't mean shit; my blind, overweight ass could have five star matches with them. And besides, it was the first hour of WCW; no one watched that shit anyways. The only reason people on the internet know is because they needed to have something to do while waiting for that latest StarCraft patch to finish installing.

Jericho toiled in obscurity for years in WCW, a veritable nobody. A curtain jerker. The bottom rung. Kevin Nash's coffee boy. Bischoff's fluffer. Goldberg's busboy.

And then...this happened...The famous very FIRST "Y2J countdown" in WWF, no less!

On that night...a star was born. And he had to come to WWF/E soil to do it.

That very night, he locked verbal horns with one of the greatest microphone swordsmen in history: The Rock.

Dean Malenko he...is...not.

For ten minutes, Chris Jericho and The Rock kept the crowd thoroughly entertained and on the edge of their seats. How many fucking times did that happen in WCW? None. The Rock was never in WCW. He knew better.

After that, the man, the legend, the GOD we know as The Ayatollah of Rock n Rolla was born, and he immediately introduced his abilites to the world. Granted, since he was fresh from WCW, he needed a nametag, but that's beside the point. Immediately upon his arrival, he set the the ring on fire. Squaring off with the _original_ Captain Charisma - Ken Shamrock, Jericho produced matches that the WWE had never seen. Fans who had grown weary of the plodding punchy-kicky style found new life when watching Jericho.

The then WWF, seeing that Jericho could actually wrestle worth a damn, decided to attempt to take some of the shine off by pairing him with Chyna. A woman so brutal, so powerful, yet so adored that her penis earned the nickname: "9th Wonder of the World."

Didn't matter, Jericho delivered. And you know what? You were entertained. Jericho was so damn good in the ring that even if you pair him off with the creature from the black lagoon, the match was a classic. In fact, most other men fell off the face of the planet after jobbing to that thing. Not Jericho. Think it couldn't get worse? They put him in the ring with X-pac the following year.

Not a problem. Jericho pulled some solid matches out of Waltman; unsual since when something of that consistency is being pulled out of him these days, it's Chyna.

I could go on and on about all that Jericho has done in the WWE...and I think I will. Each year, he's been there, he's had a match of the year candidate.

Sure he wrestled Chris Benoit in WCW...but can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me what was at stake? Were you even awake? But you remember the matches in the WWF don't you? Of course you do.

I mean seriously, is this even an issue? Jericho did more in one month in WWF/E then he did his entire WCW career. The WCW World Heavyweight Title he won from The Rock back then had more meaning in the WWF then it had in at least the three years prior...despite being with the company it was named after. How many World Heavyweight titles did Jericho win in WCW? Zero. I rest my case.

Jericho even kept crowds excited on the microphone, engaging in great exchanges with other men of his stature, such as Shawn Michaels, Rock, HHH, Angle, and Christian Steve Austin.

Yes...Steve Austin, another guy whose WCW career will go down in history...somewhere.

Chris Jericho worked with the man generally regarded as the saving grace of wrestling in late 90's and the two of them produced many an entertaining segment and quite a few entertaining matches, including Jericho pinning Austin to unify the WCW and WWF World Championships. That isn't the same as beating Stevie Ray for WCW Television _(WCW TV...what a cruel joke)_ Championship title, is it?

Need more proof? Fine.

Not only did Jericho get it on with the handful of men who could keep pace with him, he also got matches out of guys who couldn't do JACK-SHIT such as...

Scott Steiner _(his ONLY decent match in his entire WWE career)_

Hulk Hogan _( We __**all**__ know about him and great matches...he doesn't have any)_

John Cena _(Put him over in his first match...back when he was "The Prototype") _

Kevin Nash _(For further proof of Jericho's greatness...Nash wasn't injured during this match)_

Bill Goldberg _(Who can lead the blind? Jericho of course)_

Batista—when HE first began _(Chris Jericho: Actually made OVW worth a fuck)_.

That's like carrying two tons of shit for 10-15 minutes...except Jericho didn't stink when he was finished. He also carried Triple H's crippled ass for 30 minutes in the main event of Wrestlemania XVIII. Oh, and all those guys on that list are either former or current World champions.

Chris Jericho has taken a lot of shit over the years, despite providing great entertainment and being buried for the better part of the last two. But now, his Excellency is no longer with us. Putting over John Cena and getting two good matches out of him was his last miracle for now. He has left us, leaving a gaping hole in the RAW roster. Who can feud with anyone on the card? Who can get a match out of both Mason Ryan one minute, yet stay with CM Punk the next? Who can stay over regardless of winning or losing? Who can keep pace on the microphone with both HHH and Shawn Michaels? Who can elevate the future stars while maintaining his own credibilty?

No one. And one day every last one of you will be clamoring for his return. Sound familiar? Here's a few clues…

Leavens the product. Turns water into wine. Leads the blind. Sustains the masses on limited resources.

Sounds like a God to me.

And how was it possible? How did this come to pass?

Simple. Vince McMahon signs his paychecks now...not Ted Turner.

The defense rests.

...Oh, and for his next miracle, Jericho will make TNA interesting. I'm bullshitting, that's impossible.

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><p>Okay, so it's NOT my best one, but hell, I TRIED! Thanks for reading, please review!<p> 


	23. The Undertaker

Disclaimer: Hell, it's the same as it always was.

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><p>Ok fans, tonight, we learn about the mysterious upbringing and background of the living legend of the WWE, some call him the deadman, the phenom, the American bad-ass, big evil, booger red, but whatever you call him—don't call him late for dinner. Ok, so that <em><strong>wasn't<strong>_ that funny—ah, fuckin' SUE me. Look, just do me and yourselves a favor and read on to _**learn**_ something for a change! Ok, here we go!

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><p>Mark William Calaway (born March 24, 1965), nickname "Cab", is an American wrestler better known by his ring name The Undertaker. People always thought he was a black dude who was a scat-style jazz singer, but all that was before it was revealed that he was born at Pete's funeral parlor and fried chicken shack in Houston, Tex-ass, after his daddy, Paul Bearer, had too much malt liquor and wound up screwing the next customer that came through the door—a very young Amy Dumas.<p>

Now, however, he works for WWE and is the company's longest-running performer, and he is the only remaining active competitor from the very first episode of WWE Raw in 1993.

Cab began his wrestling career with WCCW—World Calaway Championship Wrasslin' in 1984. He got sick of jobbing to the Von Erichs, so he left and went to the hallowed halls of WCW as "Mean" Mark Callous in 1989. They say that he GOT that name because people would slip on his dead skin that fell on the floor after he'd pick his callouses backstage. This particular time period was ALSO when he learned how to roll his eyes in the back of his forehead—whenever Missy Hyatt went down on him backstage.

Anywho, when WCW decided not to renew Calaway's contract in 1990 because Dusty Rhodes actually used an exceptionally large piece of Calaway's skin to defeat Ric Flair one night at Starrcade, (He held the foot-scented skin up to Flair and Flair fainted and Dusty got the win), Calaway signed with the World Wildlife Foundation, known as the WWF. Now, don't be confused, there was another WWF run by some dude named Vince McMahon, but I think that HIS WWF had to do with pandas, or something. I dunno, anyway…after debuting as Kane the Undertaker, the name was shortened to the Undertaker and he has remained with the company since. Besides, it got to him that he was named after his brother, Glen Jacobs.

The Undertaker has been accused of having multiple personality disorder. Evidence of this exists because he was an Undertaker for a few years, the economy in the US got bad, and he was forced to quit being an Undertaker. That's when he decided to start riding motorcycles and bragging about his yard. He'd love to go around backstage telling people the difference between perennials and annuals, when it came to flowers. He also bragged about commanding an army of hispanics to "mow his yard".

However, one fateful night, he got into a dick-measuring contest with Bob Holly, and Undie's dick measured to be 3 feet long! Undie, with a proud smile simply said, "Son, this is MY yard!"-and a new catchphrase was born! Excellent lead-in to the next paragraph, too.

He debuted his original Deadman persona during his own on-camera debut at Survivor Series in 1990. At this event, the Undertaker was clad as a mortician. Next, in October of 1998, the Undertaker appeared as the leader of the Ministry of Darkness (When he'd wear a black outfit, complete with purple leotards under his black boots). Since WrestleMania XX, the Undertaker has appeared as sort of a "half-and-half", a hybrid version of the Deadman character, using elements of the previous Deadman incarnations.

Again, his other persona had been that of The American Bad-Ass, a biker, which he portrayed from May 2000 through around November 2003. The Undertaker is also associated with various specialty matches: the Casket match, the Buried Alive match, the Hell in a Cell, and the Last Ride match. An important part of the character is the Undertaker character's half-brother Kane, who is known as the "American HALF-Badass, has also played an important role in The Undertaker's character development. Kane was born in 1997, once again, by a drunken Paul Bearer, but THIS time, the mother was found to be a passed-out Terri Runnels-_she got high on PCP again, started running around and taking her clothes off because she "itched" an wound up knocking her head against a door opening, where a drunken, half-naked Paul Bearer found her._ Anyway, Kane and has both feuded with The Undertaker and performed in a tag-team with him as the Brothers of Destruction.

The Undertaker holds an unrivaled record of being undefeated at WrestleMania, WWE's premier pay-per-view event, with a 20–0 record. Other shit he's done-Calaway is an 8-time World Champion having won the WWE Championship four times and the World Heavyweight Championship three times—all of them, won from HHH, the greatest wrestler in history, I might add—if you don't believe ME, ask him or his wife.

Anyway, the Undertaker is also a 7-time World Tag Team champion: a 6-time WWF Tag Team Champion and one-time WCW Tag Team Champion. The Undertaker was the winner of the 2007 Royal Fumble and became the first man to enter the annual event last and win.

In his personal life, he had 3 kids from his ex-wife, Sara. The relationship didn't last because Taker got tired of everyone clowning on his wife backstage. In one fateful event, Al Snow once held a "pin the tail on the Sara" game backstage. It was a picture of a donkey's ass with Sara's mug taped to the front of it. The Rock put the blindfold on to take HIS turn, but he accidentally stuck Taker in the ass with that sharp needle. It took 3 medical staff personnel members to remove the "tail" from Taker's butt. Nonetheless, Taker had 3 kids from Sara—rumors that she had a paper bag over her head while they were fucking are unsubstantiated. And, for SOME unknown reason, all of their kids were born with gills instead of lungs.

His next love in life is his current hoe—er, I mean, love interest/wife, and HER name is Michelle McCool. She's a swimsuit model, wrestler, wrangler, and desperado. They have 1 kid together. Needless to say, Shelly wanted HER kid to sleep in a separate room from the other kids because she didn't want HER kid catching the looks of ol' Sara Taker's fish-faced kids.

Anyhow, to conclude, Taker's led a very interesting life and career and we wish him the best going forward. Don't let those ugly women break your heart, Taker!

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><p>Thanks for reading, please review!<p> 


	24. CM Punk

Disclaimer: See the previous ones.

Ok, ok…here we are again! It's time, once again, to learn about the history, the upbringing, the trials, tribulations, and triumphs of yet another "sports entertainer". This time around, I present to you the uncut, unedited story of "the best in the world", CM Punk!

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><p>Phillip "Flap" Jack Brooks was born October 26, 1978 and he's better known by his ring name CM Punk, is a professional wrestler—whoops, I mean a "sports entertainer". He's a real "straight-edge" character, having never done drugs or drank, or anything. his folks knew that a career as a pipebomb artist was in his future when he got suspended from 5th grade. There was an assembly, he ran up on stage and said, "Ms. Foster, you teach 5th grade science, right?"<p>

She said, _"Young man, get off that stage!"_

A 10-year old Punk replied,_ "Baby, why don't you tell Mr. Matthews to get off stage?"_

_"What? What are you talking about, young man?"_

_"Simple, when you gave me detention last week, I went to use the bathroom and I overheard you AND Mr. Matthews making out in the janitor's closet!"_

The students went wild at this point...

Ms. Foster replied in shock and embarrassment, _"What? Well, I NEVER-"_

CM sat down, Indian-style, on stage and replied, _"Oh, I think we ALL know that you...HAVE, Ms. Foster! And...AAAAND furthermore, I'm gonna' win this year's spelling bee and my family's moving and I'll just take this spelling bee championship WITH me!"_

And oh my gawd...how those kids cheered for their new hero.

_"Fellow students, my name is Phil Brooks, and I will be the voice of the voiceless-however, if you have laryngitis, you need to fix that shit yourself. But, anyway, when I have this mic in my hand, it becomes a pipebomb!_

Aaaanyway, Punk's first venture into wrestling was a stint in a backyard wrestling federation called Pop's backyard wrestling and BBQ. The winners of each match got a free bbq chicken leg. In case you're curious, he first started using the ring name CM Punk when he was put into a tag team named the CM Nuggets—rumor has ot that they were named after the NBA team the DENVER nuggets, but they were named the Chicken MACNuggets with CM Venom after another performer skipped out on the card—he couldn't find any bbq sauce for that evening's match. In THOSE days, if you worked in the south and showed up without any bbq sauce, the promoter would let Stan Hansen rape you for $10.

Ugh, so, to avoid that, Wendy's offered that dude 20 dollars and 2 free tickets to the Ice Capades. Buuuut, unlike his friends, Punk genuinely wanted to be a wrestler and saw it as more than simple fun. When the promotion started taking off, and they started offering fried chicken and malt liquor at the promotion, in front of a predominantly black audience—and Jerry Lawler—and, doing spot shows out of a warehouse in Mokena, Illinois, Punk found out that his brother Mike had embezzled hundreds of dollars from the small company, causing them to become estranged and also causing pops to become a month late on his garage payment. Unfortunately, they have not spoken since

Ok, let's fast-forward to about the year 2000. Punk's home promotion for his early career was considered to be IWA Mid-South. During Punk's time in IWA:Mid-South, he had high profile feuds with Colt Cabana (real name, Colt "45" Cabana) and Chris Hero (real name, Christopher Gyro) while also rising to the top of the bottom of the roster winning the IWA Mid-South Light Heavyweight Championship twice and the IWA Mid-South Heavyweight Championship on five separate occasions, beating stars like the Brooklyn Brawler, Dusty Wolfe…and a very young Sheamus (real name, Roddy Piper) His fued with hero was a title match—a gyro vs. title match—the first one to either eat or defeat on or the other, will win the belt. 5 minutes into the match, HHH materialized out of nowhere and pinned the sandwich, took the belt and disappeared into thin air. To this day, CM punk can't get HHH to give up that title—even at gunpoint—HHH snatched the gun from CM's hands and pinned the gun, therefore rendering it unable to shoot anything.

Around 2003, or somewhere around that time, CM joined ROH—Ring of wHores.

CM Punk had a cage match against Raven at Ring of wHores' PPV event, "Crack, Late Rent…and Bums" on November 28, 2003 in Fairfield, Connecticut.

Punk started climbing the ranks of ROH, including coming in second at the Second Anniversary Show pie-eating contest during the tournament to crown the first ROH Pure Champion, losing to A.J. Styles in the finals, because he was able to eat 18 pies—including a then-unknown Dixie Carter's hair pie in 3 minutes-and winning the ROH Tag Team Championship twice with Colt Cabana as the Second City Saints. Both times Punk and Cabana defeated the Briscoe Brothers to win the championship

Around 2004, in ROH, Punk faced off against then-champ ROH World Champion Samoa Joseph for the championship in a three match series. The first match, on June 12, 2004 at World Title Classic in Dayton, Ohio, resulted in a 60-minute time limit draw when neither Punk nor Joe could pin or cause the other to submit in the 60 minutes. The second match between Punk and Joe was planned for December 4, 2004—on a PPV entitled "December to Stroke Your Member"; however, due to Steve Corino being pulled from a match with Joe by Pro Wrestling ZERO-ONE, the second match was hastily rescheduled on October 11, 2004 for October 16 in Punk's hometown of Chicago

After years of saying his prayers and eating his vitamins, God finally came through in June 2005, Punk accepted a deal with World Wrestling Entertainment, after a try-out match against Val's Penis on its Sunday Night Heat show.

Up a little further in the timeline, in September 2005, Punk was assigned to Ohio Valley Wrasslin' (OVW), a WWE developmental territory. He made his debut on September 8, 2005, in a dark match, where he, Nigel McGuinness and Paul Burchill were defeated by Deuce Shade, Elijah Burke and Seth Skyfire. On September 26, 2005 in his OVW television debut, Punk suffered a ruptured eardrum and broken nose after Danny Inferno hit him with an overly stiff right hand and started blowing a whistle directly in Punk's ear. Despite the injury, Punk finished the match and quickly recovered.

Let's fast-forward a year-On June 24, 2006, Punk made his ECW debut during a house show at the former ECW Arena, defeating Stevie Richards. He made his TV debut on the July 4 episode of ECW on the Sci Fi channel, cutting a brief pre-taped promo about how his straight-edge lifestyle paralleled Neptune's orbit, emphasizing the disciplinary aspects of being drug and alcohol free—and having a moon that not only shot out black nitrogen, but also had 4 kids.

Although he had retained the straight edge gimmick, he now had a Muay Thai training background. Punk made his TV wrestling debut on August 1, 2006 at the Hammerstein Ballroom, defeating Justin Credible with a kick to the shin. CM Punk established himself in ECW by going undefeated, defeating opponents such as Christopher W. Anderson—known as CW Anderson, or sometimes WCW Anderson-Stevie Richards and Shannon "do me" Moore.

Soon after, Punk began feuding with some ugly dude named Mike Knox after Knox's girlfriend, Kelly Kelly, was seen to have feelings for Punk. Punk defeated Knox in their first singles match (qualifying for the Extreme Elimination Chamber at December to Dismember in the process) as well as the rematch, after which Kelly Kelly celebrated CM Punk's victory over her boyfriend by publicly sucking his dick on the Las Vegas strip. Punk then teamed with D-Generation X and the Hardy Boyz in their Survivor Series match against Rated-RKO, Knox, Johnny "WCW" Nitro and Gregory Helms, a match in which all the participants on DX's side survived elimination. At "December to Dismember", Punk participated in the Elimination Chamber for the ECW World Championship; however, he was the first person eliminated by Rob Van Damnitalltohell.

Punk's character took on a more sinister demeanor on the November 27 episode of SmackDown when he revealed that he had converted Luke Gallows, who had previously been portrayed as the mentally incompetent wrestler Festus, to the straight-edge lifestyle which had rid him of his mental troubles. Rumor has t that, in order to get Luke Gallows to please his girl, she has to ring a bell with a dildo.

Anyway, continuing to espouse his straight-edge philosophy, Punk began to present himself as a cult-like savior to the crowd, growing the hair on his head, face and chest in an allusion to Jesus. Though—but, to be honest, he looked more like singer Bertie Higgins-if you don't know who he is—check YouTube, lol.) Through January 2010, Punk began to convert planted members of the audience to a straight-edge lifestyle, making them take a pledge of allegiance to him and shaving their head as a sign of renewal and devotion-not to mention giving an offering of 10 dollars so Punk could get a slice of pizza and a Coke after each show.

Later on, he joined this group called Nexus. Look, folks I really can't tell you too much about them because they had so little impact on today's wrestling standards. Buuuuut…Punk was traded back to the Raw brand on October 11 after being swapped with Edge. He took part in the inter-brand tag team match at Bragging Rights after injuring Evan Bourne (real name Evan Born) to win a place, but the team lost. It was reported later that he was suffering with a hip injury that would stop him from competing.[

Ok, back In June, after pinning WWE Champion John Cena on Raw, Rey Mysterio at Capitol Punishment, and finally Alberto Del Rio again in a contendership match (which included Mysterio) all within one week, Punk held the WWE hostage, so to say, when he told everyone that he was going to win and leave the WWE with the strap. He would later be suspended after making inflammatory remarks about the McMahon family. He said that "Stephanie's needs to stop wearing her hear in a ponytail". When he was asked why he said that, he replied, "Well, she has a big forehead—in fact, LADIES—if your head looks like an Expedition windshield, get some bangs in front…perhaps…just maybe."

Right after, he had the "pleasure" of meeting one John Laurinaitis. Week after week, punk would constantly own Laurinaitis, and he wound up fired. Rumor has It that he works part-time as a WWE road agent and doubles as a stripper in a club in Atlantic City.

Originally, the initials CM in his ring name represented the phrase "Chick Magnet", now it represents his favorite food—Chicken McNuggets.

Prominently visible are the Pepsi Globe tattoo on his left shoulder—when he goes to Maccas, he point's to his shoulder whenever they ask him for a drink.

Moving on, while working for Ring of Honor, Punk was romantically linked to professional wrestlers Shannon Spruill and Tracy Brookshaw. After joining Ohio Valley Wrestling Punk began dating Maria Kanellis, who was working there as an interviewer, however they broke up sometime after Punk was moved to World Wrestling Entertainment and started working on the ECW brand—rumor has it that Punk's entire locker smelled like Kelly Kelly's drawers. At first, Punk said he had a tuna fishn sandwich, but then he gave in. That's when Punk started dating Amy Dumas. However Matt Hardy confirmed in March 2010 that Punk and Dumas were no longer dating—and he threw a party in honor of that breakup. Punk confirmed in an November 2011 Maxim Magazine interview that he was in a relationship with WWE wrestler Beth Phoenix, but revealed in December that he was single again, mainly because he and Beth got into a dick-measuring contest and Beth won by a good 5 inches.

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><p>Hey thanks for taking the time to read. Please review—I mean seriously—the next chapter will be the last for this series. Make your requests now.<p> 


	25. Edge

Disclaimer: I don't own shit!

_**Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you all back to what will be the final installment of this series. Tonight's sponsor is Dani. She suggested that I make this final biography all about everyone's favorite cuddle-muffin—EDGE! So, since this is the last chapter, I'm going to take a different approach. I've taken it upon MYSELF to…ask Randy Orton to interview Edge (especially since he did such a wonderful job of interviewing Brock Lesnar on the "Quarter After 6 News")—you know—about his history, his likes, his dislikes, all that jazz. I'm really just interested in knowing the…the PURE, tender, loving spirit inside of him. So, buckle up, put on your rubbers, here we go!**_

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><p><em>Hey fans, it's your favorite viper again! Al has hired me, once again, to do another interview. Tonight, I'm interviewing former 11-time WWE champ Edge! So, recently, I caught up with…ahem, Mr. Copeland in hopes of finally answering the one question that has been haunting us for months:<em>

**ME:** Did you and Christian used to share ass cream, REALLY?

**EDGE:** Y'know, we're not really brothers, Randy. I actually haven't seen him since last Spring. Besides, I've always had my own personal can.

**ME:** Good to know. Could you lend me some? I, uh…know someone who is running low, and I'd hate to see him so deprived.

**EDGE:** Why not? I always like to help my fans.

_With the truly burning questions out of the way, I was free to shoot the shit, as it was, with my new friend, Edge. I found him to be a gentle man, a simple man, and above all, ridiculously toothy. I mean, my God. Did he have his gums surgically removed? I had to know…_

**ME:** Mr. Copeland, what of the teeth? Why are your bicuspids longer than my fingers?

**EDGE:** Long story actually…

**ME:** Then forget it. Can't we just watch some porn?

**EDGE:** Horse or kiddie?

**ME:** Yes.

**EDGE:** Good man.

_Several hours and three boxes of Kleenex later, I decided to be a real interviewer for once, and get some background information on my subject. After all, Barbara Walters does that shit all the time, and she's making millions. Maybe if I follow her example, I can at least get 20% share in this site! That should be more than enough stroke to get NC-17 fics reinstated! I miss reading about serial killers and the pink power ranger's ass._

**ME:** Mr. Copeland, tell me a bit about your background. What was your childhood like? Any cool molestation stories?

**EDGE:** I was born in Canada. I'd tell you where exactly, but it hardly matters. All of Canada just kinda' blurs together in a vast sea of snow and Harts. But I grew up a relatively normal child. I love reminiscing about the old days of hanging with my buds around the neighborhood.

**ME:** What did you guys like to do?

**EDGE:** Oh, so many memories! I remember all those times that my friends and I would "borrow" my dad's guns, and take turns playing Russian roulette. My best friend Bobby would stick it in my mouth, and _maybe_ the slot was empty, but _maybe_ it was not, ya' know? Luckily, I was fortunate enough to win every game. Now Bobby, I can't say the same for him. RIP Bobby…

**ME:** Um…Edge?

**EDGE:** Yeah?

**ME:** "Normal" children don't do that.

**EDGE:** Really? Hmmm…guess I wasn't normal after all. I thought I knew me, but I will never know me. Teehee, I made a funny.

**ME:** No you didn't.

**EDGE:** Sorry.

_After Edge received forty lashings from my Singapore cane for uttering such putrid humor, I received a private tour of his personal gym, complete with wrestling ring. It is here that Mr. Copeland is ridding himself of his ring rust, in __**anticipation of a major return to the WWE in the coming months?**_

**ME:** Now Edge, refresh my memory. Where were you, storyline-wise, when you injured your back?

**EDGE:** Y'know the funny thing? I really don't remember what happened. I think I was a mystery partner for someone, and two or three opponents sneak-attacked me and put me out of commission. But aside from that, I'm drawing a complete blank.

**ME:** That's OK. The writers likely don't remember either. Well…if by some MIRACLE you actually DO come back, expect to be repackaged as Daniel Bryan's ambiguously gay lover or something.

**EDGE:** Cool, a real-life gimmick!

**ME:** Wha?

**EDGE:** Shit, I've said too much, haven't I? Um…moving on…hey, wait! Aren't they already DOING the "Daniel Bryan has a male friend" gimmick with Kane? They wouldn't do the same thing twice. Right?

**ME:** And _how_ many times were you someone's pointless mystery partner?

**EDGE:** Hmmm, good point. But hey, I enjoyed that gimmick. Thinking back, I especially liked being Rhyno's partner.

**ME:** Who?

**EDGE:** Rhyno.

**ME:** I'm drawing another blank.

**EDGE:** He was the big retarded-looking guy with long hair who gored people. C'mon, he was ECW champion! How could you forget him?

**ME:** I haven't seen anyone like that on my TV in a while.

**EDGE:** I think he's on NXT, or something.

**ME:** What's that?

**EDGE:** Do you know squat about wrestling? Christ, who pays you?

**ME:** No one.

**EDGE:** Oh. Well, anyway, NXT the WWE's 3rd-slot show.

**ME:** Ah. That explains it. MY Saturday nights are usually spent luring prostitutes into my iron maiden. Listening to their harsh squeals of agony is much more fun than watching goddamn Heath Slater getting squashed by 80-year old ex-wrestlers.

_Our time in the gym was soon done, and Adam then took me to his favorite restaurant for some steak. He insisted I order it rare, as he would have it no other way. He ordered us a nice dark red wine, and threatened to flay me alive if I didn't try the blood pudding. Needless to say, I was quite confused, but every time I asked him about his behavior, he became evasive, telling me that I would soon find out first-hand._

_Little did I know how right he was. After the meal, Edge took me back to his place and showed me his basement. There, I found my answer. Candles upon candles adorned the furniture, the only light in an otherwise darkened area. Goblets and chalices were everywhere, filled to the rim with what appeared to be blood. A gigantic poster of Gangrel was strategically placed in the center, in front of a WrestleMania ringside chair._

_I watched Edge as he knelt down on the chair, lifted a goblet to his lips, and drank of the blood, before spraying it into the air. After listening to him utter a strange tongue, I asked the inevitable question:_

**ME:** Dude, are you on crack?

**EDGE:** Not at all. My only drug is Gangrel. He is my Davy Boy.

**ME:** You do know the Brood gimmick died in '99 right?

**EDGE:** It may have been a gimmick to you and Russo, but to me, _it was an epiphany._ Gangrel opened my eyes to life, _to love._ Not a day goes by that I don't loathe the men who released him.

**ME:** Y'know, I liked Gangrel too, but you've just eclipsed me about four-hundred-fold as a fan.

**EDGE:** I'm not his fan. I'm his lover! He just doesn't realize it yet. All this time, I've tried to fill the void with mystery partner after mystery partner. I even turned to soda, and while soda rules, it's just not the same as sweet, succulent blood. Hell, I've even married Val Venis's sister, but to no avail. I look at her, and I always see David. I'm TRYING to get turned on by being with BEH Phoenix, but her constant foot odor just reminds me of…the buttery popcorn Gangrel used to buy me! _(If you think about it, buttered popcorn DOES smell an awful lot like foot odor.)_ So when she's not here, I hide in this basement—no, THIS SHRINE! And I pay proper tribute to the man who, with one bite to my neck, made me as complete a person as I'll ever be.

**ME:** You _DO_ know David Heath isn't really a vampire, right? And that he's married, right?

**EDGE:** NONSENSE! LIES! His fangs are as real as the love for him that I feel. And his marriage is just a sham. He's trying to deny to himself what he knows is true, but he can't lie forever. One day, he'll realize that he's been blinded by his wife's ovaries, and that I'm the only one who can truly complete him, just as he completes me. And how dare you suggest otherwise! Now worship with me or get out of my house!

**ME:** Sorry, Adam. Tanqueray is my only God.

**EDGE:** Then go! Leave me be with Davy Boy. Be off my premises in ten minutes, or I send my mystery partners after you! And if this shows up on some damn…fanfiction website, then I will have your head!

_Aaaaaand with that, I scrambled to my feet and ran out of Edge's house. You know, for an 11-time champ, he suuuuure is an odd one, that Edge. Uh, BYE!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading along everyone. I'd like to thank everyone who has supported this series. I had a blast making you all at LEAST crack a smile. This is Al, signing off.<strong>_


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